THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE   LAND    OF 
LITTLE    CARE 


THE   LAND   OF 
LITTLE    CARE 


By 

SAMUEL 

ELLSWORTH 

KISER 


CHICAGO 
P.  F.  VOLLAND   &   CO. 


Copyright,  iqii 
P.  F.  VOLLAND  &  CO. 

CHICAGO.  U.  S.  A. 


PS 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  LAND  OF  LITTLE  CARE 9 

IN  A  PULLMAN  CAR 11 

GENESIS 13 

FROM  BABYHOOD  TO  BOYHOOD 15 

A  WINTER  EVENING 16 

CIDER  MAKING 17 

WHEN  MA  LOST  HER  POCKETBOOK 19 

WHEN  WILLIE  HURRIES 21 

THE  OLD  TOWN  ON  THE  HILL 22 

HOME 24 

A  PETITION 25 

WHAT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN 26 

THEY  HAND  'EM  DOWN  TO  ME 28 

LET  HIM  DREAM 30 

WHAT  THEY  GIVE 31 

THE  VANITY  OF  WEALTH 32 

WHEN  PA  WAS  LITTLE  LIKE  ME 34 

MISTRESS  MERRYFACE 37 

THE  TOUCH  OF  JOY 38 

THE  HAND  THAT  USED  TO  SPANK  MY  MA 39 

IF  PA  COULD  HAVE  His  WAY 40 

A  DISCONCERTING  GRANDPA 43 

WOMANLIKE 44 

AT  THE  CRITICAL  MOMENT 45 

WORLDLY  POSSESSIONS 46 

His  HONORED  NAME 47 

How  PITIFUL  'TWOULD  BE 48 

PA  AS  A  PATIENT 49 

THEIR  LAST  GOOD-BY 52 

THE  BOY  WITH  THE  PONY 53 

SONG  OF  THE  MORNING ;  54 

COMRADES  OF  THE  HIGHWAY 55 

His  SHIP 56 

THE  STRANGER  AT  THE  GATE 57 

WHEN  AGE  COMES  ON 59 

ROMANCE 60 

FAMILY  TROUBLES 61 

GROUNDS  FOR  SUSPICION 62 

THE  PEACEMAKER 64 

A  HERO 67 

THE  LITTLE  VOICE 68 

SCANDAL  AND  TRUTH 69 

NEEDLESS  DELAY 70 

THE  FAR-OFF  CALL 72 

LONG  AGO  ...                                           73 


612766 
UMAKT 


CONTENTS  —  Continued 

PAGE 

THE  CHANCE 75 

WHEN  GRANDMA  COMES  TO  OUR  HOUSE 76 

DEACON  BROWN 78 

THE  MAN  FROM  YORK  STATE 80 

TRANQUILLITY 83 

To  A  FATHERLESS  CHILD 84 

JOHNNY'S  AGE 85 

THE  RUNAWAY 86 

FROWNS 87 

THE  MAN  WHO  MADE  His  MARK 88 

GIVING  AND  TAKING 90 

THE  HUMORIST 91 

FABLE  OF  THE  SQUIRREL  AND  THE  RABBIT 92 

HER  NAME 94 

SUNDAY  IN  THE  LITTLE  OLD  TOWN 95 

THE  WIND  BLEW  ILL 97 

THE  LAUGHALOT  BOY 98 

LITTLE  ALBERT'S  PA'S  PA 99 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  GNU 101 

IF  WILLIE  WERE  A  KING 102 

THE  REUNION  OF  THE  TOYS 104 

LET'S  PRETEND 107 

HER  PART 108 

POOR  FOOL 109 

THE  GRAND  ARMY 110 

AMBITION 112 

THE  PICTURE 113 

NOTHING  TO  BEAT  IT 115 

HEROES 116 

HER  DAY 117 

WOMAN 118 

I  WILL 120 

THE  VOICES  OF  THE  CHILDREN 121 

THE  DISTANT  CARES 122 

THE  LITTLE  HELPER 124 

A  PROTEST  BY  THE  AUDIENCE 126 

THE  TROUBLES  WE  NEVER  HAVE 127 

WHERE  THE  PULSE  OF  HOPE  Is  QUICK 128 

As  THEY  PASS 130 

THE  TROUBLE  WITH  THE  WORLD 131 

THE  NEWS  BEARER 132 

AN  ANNIVERSARY 133 

THE  LESSON 134 

ARE  You  GETTING  ANYWHERE? 135 

AT  THE  END  OF  THE  DAY 138 

THIS  WORLD  OF  OURS 139 

INDIAN  SUMMER 141 


THE  LAND  OF 
LITTLE  CARE 


Come,  little  comrade,  let  us  fare  across  the  hills 

beyond  the  city. 
And  loiter  in  the  open  where  no  voice  may  call  to 

us  for  pity; 
We'll  wade  in  brooks  and  wander  by  the  slanting 

fields  and  forest  edges. 
And  listen  to  the  winds  that  sigh  and  sing  through 

aromatic  sedges. 

We'll  linger  in  the  hawtree's  shade,  and  carve 

the  letters  of  our  names 
On  mossy  fences  that  were  made  by  hands  which 

toil  no  longer  claims; 
The  golden  willow's  branch  shall  be  a  whistle  you 

may  blithely  blow 
And  every  pool  shall  be  a  sea  where  stately  vessels 

come  and  go. 

I'll  lead  you  where  the  valleys  lie  deep  in  the  morn 
ing's  gleaming  dew; 

The  crabtree's  fragrant  blossoms  I  will  pluck 
from  thorny  boughs  for  you. 


And  where  the  cool  spring  bubbles  up  to  add  its 

beauty  to  the  scene 
I'll  teach  you  how  to  shape  a  cup  of  broad  leaves 

that  are  fringed  and  green. 

The  friendly  colt  shall  come  to  lay  its  velvet  muzzle 

in  your  hand. 
And  we  will  watch  the  lambs  at  play,  and  hear  no 

master's  harsh  command; 
No  clanging  gongs  shall  terrorize  and  there  will 

be  no  shrieks  of  pain. 
No  maiming  wheels  nor  warning  cries,  no  angry 

bickering  for  gain. 

Come,  little  comrade,  let  me  guide  you  out  beyond 

the  roar  and  rattle, 
And  show  you  that  the  world  is  wide,  that  life  is 

not  an  endless  battle, 
And  through  the  joy  that  you  shall  know  and 

through  the  glee  of  your  expression, 
7  he  boyhood  I  had  long  ago  shall  come  again  to 

my  possession. 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


IN    A    PULLMAN    CAR 

THERE  is  one  who  will  always  remember  me, 

Wherever  the  fates  may  call  her, 
No  matter  how  splendid  her  fortune  may  be, 

Or  how  heavy  the  ills  that  befall  her ! 
I  gazed  on  her  first  as  we  thundering  sped  — 

I  and  the  beautiful  stranger  — 
With  faith  in  the  man  at  the  throttle  ahead 

And  never  a  thought  of  danger. 

We  shared  the  same  section:  I  wished  that 

we  two 

Might  journey  forever  together, 
With  never  a  care  when  the  heavens  were  blue. 

And  blithe  in  the  stormiest  weather! 
Her   lashes   were   long,    her   expression   was 

sweet  — 

She  must  have  been  twenty,  or  nearly  — 
Though  I  know  not  her  name,  though  we  never 

may  meet, 
I  know  she  remembers  me  clearly. 


11 


THE       LAND       OF       LITTLE       CARE 

In  fancy  I  see  her  still,  slender  and  fair, 
As  she  was  in  that  long-ago  Maytime 
When  her  dark  lashes  curled  and  the  bronze  of 

her  hair 

Turned  dusk  at  the  close  of  the  daytime : 
Oh,  I  dreamed  of  her  grace  as  we  thundered 

ahead 

When  troubles  no  longer  beset  me ; 
Though  her  cheeks  may  be  faded,  her  gladness 

be  dead, 
I  know  she  will  never  forget  me ! 

I  know  that  whatever  her  fortune  may  be, 

Whether  lofty  or  lowly  her  station. 
She  will  never  forget  that  occasion  when  we 

Journeyed  on  to  our  far  destination ! 
Though  I  never  may  clasp  her  in  happy  em 
brace 

And  never  may  tell  her  I  love  her, 
She  remembers,  I  know,  for  I  stepped  on  her 
face 

When  I  climbed  from  my  berth  above  her. 


12 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


GENESIS 

'Tis  said  that  God  made  woman  from 

The  crooked  rib  of  man : 
Let  others  think  the  story  true 
If  it  may  please  them  so  to  do — 

I  don't,  and  never  can. 

I  think  the  Lord  made  woman  first — 

Took  of  the  best  He  had, 
And  labored  earnestly  and  long, 
And  as  He  shaped  her  hummed  a  song. 

And  in  His  heart  was  glad. 

I  fancy  that  He  saw  her  grow 

More  perfect  day  by  day, 
And  that  He  studied  well  to  know 
Just  where  each  little  dab  should  go 

While  putting  on  the  clay. 

How  doubly  glad  He  must  have  been 

While  modeling  her  face 
And  fashioning  her  rounded  chin. 
And  putting  all  the  dimples  in, 

Each  at  its  proper  place. 


13 


THE      LAND     OF     LITTLE      CARE 

There  on  her  pedestal  she  stood. 

The  work  of  many  days. 
And  God  no  doubt  was  proud  at  heart 
To  view  the  product  of  His  art. 

And  gave  her  honest  praise. 

How  sweetly  in  the  garden  there. 

At  first,  her  laughter  rang; 
How  gladly  must  the  birds  in  air 
And  all  the  creatures  everywhere 

Have  listened  when  she  sang. 

But  sadness  marked  her  mien,  ere  long. 

Her  cheeks  began  to  fade; 
She  ceased  to  sing  her  happy  song. 
And  God,  surmising  what  was  wrong, 
.  Had  pity  on  the  maid. 

He  took  the  dust  beneath  her  feet; 

She  looked  with  wondering  eyes. 
And  danced  and  clapped  her  hands  in  glee. 
As,  watching,  she  began  to  see 

A  shapely  man  arise. 


14 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

"There,"  said  the  Lord,  when  He  was 

through, 

"Do  with  him  as  you  will; 
I  give  him,  soul  and  all,  to  you!" 
She  played  with  him,  and  laughed  anew — 

He  is  her  plaything  still. 


FROM  BABYHOOD  TO 
BOYHOOD 

WHERE  snow  nad  drifted  o'er  the  land 
I  saw  a  sweet  young  mother  stand : 
A  babe  was  lying  on  her  breast. 

Its  little  form 

Against  herself  she  closely  pressed. 
To  keep  it  warm. 

In  later  years  I  passed  once  more. 
And  saw  her  at  her  cottage  door : 
A  boy  was  lying  on  her  knee. 

Her  look  was  grim, 
And,  suffering  Joshua !  how  she 
Was  warming  him! 


15 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE     CARE 


A  WINTER  EVENING 

THE  cows  are  munching  in  the  shed. 
The  sun  has  slipped  behind  the  hill; 
The  fields  are  bluish-gray  and  still ; 
A  saddled  horse  paws,  at  the  gate, 
A  turkey  perching  on  the  sled 
That  stands  beside  the  barn  appears 
To  dream  of  others  that  are  dead. 

Up  in  the  gable  of  the  stable 
A  broken  pane  permits  a  wisp 
Of  hay  to  hang  out  in  the  crisp. 
Clear  atmosphere,  and  far  away 
A  dog  is  howling  as  they  say 
Dogs  howl  before  somebody  dies. — 
The  chickens  on  their  perches  doze 
And  in  their  feathers  warm  their  toes 
And  spread  white  films  across  their  eyes. 

The  last  faint  little  streak  of  red 
Has  faded  out  above  the  hill ; 
The  evergreens  that  sighed  are  still; 
The  doctor,  with  a  low-bowed  head. 
And  muffled  up  and  stern  and  gray. 
Comes  from  the  house  and  softly  shuts 
The  door  and  mounts  and  rides  away. 


16 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE      CARE 


CIDER     MAKING 

THEY  are  gathering  the  apples  in  the  orchard 

on  the  hill ; 
They  are  carrying  the  baskets  to  the  humming 

cider  mill; 
The  breeze  is  blowing  softly,  and  the  autumn 

day  is  fair 
And  the  farmer  whistles  gayly  as  he  works 

away  out  there 
Where  the  smoke  is  curling  upward,  as  it  used 

to,  long  ago, 
When  our  hearts  were  free  from  trouble  and 

our  young  cheeks  were  aglow. 

The  leaves  are  sifting  downward  through  the 
branches  overhead 

And  the  doves  are  cooing  softly  on  the  weather- 
beaten  shed ; 

The  ground  is  strewn  with  pumpkins  where  the 
corn  is  cut  away. 

And  the  hills  beyond  the  valley  loom  through 
something  soft  and  gray, 

While  a  strain  of  dreamy  music  issues  from  the 
humming  mill 

17 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

And  the  breeze,  goes  blowing  softly  through  the 
orchard  on  the  hill. 

They  are  gathering  the  apples  that  the  wind 
has  shaken  down, 

And  the  child  is  filled  with  wonder  who  is  visit 
ing  from  town; 

Oh,  an  amber  stream  of  something  fit  for  gods 
is  flowing  out 

Where  a  daring  yellowjacket  sips  serenely  from 
the  spout; 

The  mill  is  humming  sweetly  as  the  juicy  apples 
fall. 

And  the  frugal  farmer  chuckles  while  he  grinds 
the  worms  and  all. 


18 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


WHEN    MA    LOST    HER 
POCKETBOOK 

WHEN  ma  was  down  town  yesterday  she  lost 

her  pocketbook ; 
It  made  her  awful  sorry — you  could  see  it  by 

her  look; 
They  was  three  dollars  in  it,  and  ma  nearly 

had  to  groan 
To  think  of  all  she  might  of  bought,  if  she  had 

only  known. 

When  pa  came  home  and  found  it  out,  you 

.    ought  of  heard  him  kick ; 
He  spoke  about  how  hard  he  worked,  and  said 

ma  made  him  sick. 
"I  don't  pick  money  up,"  he  said;  "I  toil  for 

every  cent!" 
He  said  a  lot  of  other  things  that  showed  his 

discontent. 

He  got  his  old  hat  out  and  said :  "There!  Take 

a  look  at  that ! 
To  save  three  dollars,  which  you've  lost,  I'm 

wearin'  last  year's  hat! 


19 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE      CARE 

I  never  saw  such  carelessness !  I  work  day  after 

day. 
And  skimp  and  save,  and  then  you  go  and 

throw  the  cash  away." 

Ma  wiped  away  her  tears  and  said:   "It's 

terrible,  I  know — 
I  never  lost  six  hundred  in  a  deal  on  margins, 

though." 
Pa  kind  of  shrunk  down  in  his  chair,  as  limber 

as  a  rag, 
And  said:  "Yah — there  you  go  again!  Now 

nag,  confound  it,  nag!" 


20 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


WHEN     WILLIE     HURRIES 

MY  bruther  Willie  he 

Just  always  lags 
And  drags  — 
He's  slow  as  he  can  be. 

And  mamma  has  to  say: 
"Come,  Willie,  hurry,  pray!" 

Whenever  she 
Wants  him  to  help,  'cause  he's  so  slow  — 

But  oh 

You  ought  to  hear  him  when 
He  says  his  prayers  at  night! 

I  tell  you  then 
He  hussels  up,  all  right, 

And  nearly  'fore  I  get 
To  where  it  says  to  let 

"Thy  will  be  done" —  both  starting  even,  too  - 
He's  through! 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 


THE  OLD  TOWN  ON 
THE  HILL 

THE  little  old  town  that  I  left  one  day, 

Because  it  was  quiet,  still 
Has  the  name  it  bore  when  I  came  away 

And  stands  on  the  selfsame  hill ; 
But  the  friends  I  had  in  the  little,  old  town. 
With  its  one  wide  street  running  up  and  down 
No  longer  look  from  the  windows  where 

The  roses  were  trained  to  climb; 
They  have  ceased  to  gather  and  gossip  there. 

As  they  did  in  the  dear  old  time. 

The  little,  white  church  with  its  slender  spire 

Still  stands  as  it  stood  of  yore ; 
But  the  envied  ones  who  were  in  the  choir 

Are  singing  the  hymns  no  more ! 
And  the  little  old  schoolhouse,  where  my  name 
Is  carved  on  a  desk,  stands  just  the  same, 
But  the  boys  who  are  batting  the  ball  today 

And  the  maidens  who  shout  their  glee 
Are  not  the  children  who  used  to  play 

On  the  common  there  with  me. 


22 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

And  the  little,  old  house,  so  quaint,  so  dear. 

Stands  just  as  it  used  to  stand, 
But  not  for  many  and  many  a  year 

Has  the  latch  obeyed  her  hand — 
The  gentle  hand  in  which  mine  was  laid 
When  my  first  few  faltering  steps  were  made, 
And  now  in  the  little  dim  parlor  there, 

O'erlooking  the  sloping  lawn, 
Another  sits  in  an  easy  chair 

And  sews  while  the  clock  ticks  on. 

The  little,  old  town  that  I  left,  because 

I  longed  for  the  city,  still 
Is  as  free  from  cares  as  it  ever  was 

And  stands  on  the  same  old  hill. 
But  the  ones  I  knew  in  the  dear  old  days 
Have  journeyed  forth  in  a  hundred  ways, 
And  over  the  doors  of  the  little,  old  stores 

Few  names  that  I  know  remain — 
Ah,  the  dream  that  was  fair  of  the  "old  home" 
there 

Can  never  be  mine  again! 


23 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


HOME 

THERE'S  a  road  that  winds  o'er  many  a  hill 

And  crosses  many  a  tinkling  stream. 
And  passes  many  a  dusty  mill 

And  leads  through  cities  that  proudly  gleam, 
And  back  at  the  end  of  that  winding  way 

That  has  grown  so  long  and  is  longer  yet 
At  the  peaceful  close  of  each  busy  day 

Is  the  dear  home  village  of  Never  Forget. 

Back  through  the  valleys  of  Doubt  and  Care 

And  along  the  meadows  of  Used-to-Be, 
And  around  the  edges  of  orchards  where 

The  bloom  was  fragrant  on  every  tree. 
And  over  the  fairest,  sunniest  slopes 

Whereon  gray  milestones  ever  were  set. 
The  road  that  is  paved  with  our  fondest  hopes 

Leads  to  the  village  of  Never  Forget. 

We  bravely  strive  and  we  proudly  plan, 

We  dream  of  bliss  that  has  not  been  gained , 

We  build  and  barter  as  best  we  can. 
With  our  shoulders  squared  and  our  sinews 
strained, 


24 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

But  ever  faithfully,  day  by  day 

Memory  sweetly  serves  us  yet. 
And  out  at  the  end  of  the  winding  way 

Is  the  dear  home  village  of  Never  Forget. 


A    PETITION 

I  DO  not  ask  Thee,  if  to-day  be  dark, 
To  change  it  all,  and  make  it  fair; 

As  I  step  forth  to-day  to  toe  the  mark 
I  ask  not  that  the  burden  I  must  bear 
Be    taken    from    my    shoulders — leave    it 
there ! 

But  this  I  pray  Thee  for  with  all  my  might — 
My  humble  prayer  Thou  canst  fulfill 
And  give  the  world  its  own  way  still — 
Let  me,  if  it  be  dark  to-day. 
Keep  hoping  that  to-morrow  may 
Be  bright. 


25 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


WHAT     MIGHT     HAVE     BEEN 

THE  hand  that  rocks  the  cradle — but  there  is 

no  such  a  hand; 
It  is  bad  to  rock  the  baby,  they  would  have  us 

understand.  [days 

So  the  cradle's  but  a  relic  of  the  former  foolish 
When  the  mothers  reared  their  children  in 

unscientific  ways, 
When  they  pounced  them  and  they  bounced 

them,  those  poor  dwarfs  of  long  ago. 
The  Washingtons  and  Jeffersons  and  Adamses, 

you  know. 

They  warn  us  that  the  baby  will  possess  a 
muddled  brain 

If  we  dandle  him  or  rock  him;  we  must  care 
fully  refrain.  [never  swung, 

He  must  lie  in  one  position,  never  swayed  and 

Or  his  chance  to  grow  to  greatness  will  be 
blasted  while  he's  young. 

Ah,  to  think  how  they  were  ruined  by  their 
mothers,  long  ago, 

The  Franklins  and  the  Putnams  and  the 
Hamiltons,  you  know. 


26 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

We  must  feed  the  baby  only  by  the  schedule 

that  is  made, 
And  the  food  that  he  is  given  must  be  measured 

out  and  weighed ; 
He  may  bellow  to  inform  us  that  he  isn't 

satisfied. 
But  he  couldn't  grow  to  greatness  if  his  wants 

were  all  supplied. 
Think  how  foolish  nursing  stunted  those  poor 

weaklings  long  ago, 
The  Shakespeares  and  the  Luthers  and  the 

Bonapartes,  you  know. 

We  are  given  a  great  mission,  we  are  here 

to-day,  on  earth, 
To  bring  forth  a  race  of  giants  and  to  guard 

them  from  their  birth, 
To  insist  upon  their  freedom  from  the  rocking 

that  was  bad 
For  our  parents  and  their  parents,  scrambling 

all  the  brains  they  had. 
Ah !  had  they  been  fed  by  schedule,  would  they 

have  been  stunted  so, 
The  Websters  and  the  Lincolns  and  the  Grants 

and  Lees,  you  know  ? 


27 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

THEY     HAND     'EM     DOWN 
TO     ME 

THEY  cut  pa's  trousers  down  for  me,  I  don't 
get  nothin'  new ; 

I  have  to  wear  his  old  vests  out,  his  old  sus 
penders,  too; 

His  hat  and  shoes  don't  fit  me;  I  s'pose  they 
will  some  day,  [thrown  away. 

And  then  they'll  come  to  me  instead  of  bein' 

My  sister  Grace  she's  twenty-two  and  she  can 
play  and  sing,  [her  everything ; 

And  what  she  wears  is  always  new,  they  buy 

She  puts  on  style,  I  tell  you  what !  She  wears 
shoes  that's  too  tight ; 

She's  proud  and  haughty  and  she's  got  a  beau 
most  every  night. 

Sometimes  my  eyes  get  smarty  and   I   can 

hardly  read. 
But  just  sit  round  and  rub  'em  until  they 

nearly  bleed. 

But  I  don't  tell  nobody,  for  if  I  did,  you  see, 
I  s'pose  they'd  take  pa's  glasses  and  hand 

them  down  to  me. 


28 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

I  almost  wish  sometimes  that  I  would  never 

of  got  born ; 
You'd  think,  the  way  they  talk,  I  try  to  get 

my  old  clo's  torn; 
I'm  only  in  the  way,  I  guess,  and  they'd  be 

glad,  I  s'pose. 
If  only  girls  would  have  to  dress,  and  no  boy 

needed  clo's. 

I'm  wearin'  pa's  old  nightshirt;  they  cut  it 

down  to  fit, 
'Cause  I  ain't  anybody  and  don't  need  new 

things  yit ; 
I'm  glad  I  don't  wear  corsets,  for  if  I  did, 

•  I'd  be 
In  line  for  sister's  old  ones — they'd  hand  them 

down  to  me. 

I  never  get  new  things  to  wear,  I'm  just  a  boy, 

you  know. 
And  so  the  fambly  needn't  care  if  I  don't 

stand  a  show ; 
I  have  to  tie  my  shoes  with  strings  that  once 

belonged  to  pa — 
When  sister's  through  with  her  fine  things 

she  hands  'em  up  to  ma. 


29 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


LET     HIM     DREAM 

Do  not  wake  him,  let  him  dream; 

He  is  dreaming  she  is  fair ; 
As  the  tinkling  of  a  stream 

Rippling  through  a  glen  somewhere 
Fills  the  poet's  breast  with  glee. 

Her  loud  laughter  makes  him  glad ; 
In  her  eyes  he  seems  to  see 

Beauty  they  have  never  had ; 
Though  she  has  no  charms  for  you. 
Let  him  dream  as  lovers  do. 

He  supposes  that  her  face 

Might  inspire  a  poet's  pen ; 
He  is  dreaming  that  her  grace 

Is  a  thing  to  gladden  men. 
Ah,  her  nose  was  never  cast 

In  the  graceful  classic  mold, 
And  her  chin  when  youth  is  past 

Will  be  piled  up  fold  on  fold ; 
Waking  him  would  bring  dismay. 
Let  him  gladly  dream  away. 


30 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

She  is  his ;  because  of  her 

Beauty  gilds  all  earthly  things ; 
Everywhere  he  hears  the  whir 

Ceaselessly  of  angels'  wings. 
In  her  shrill  and  rasping  voice 

There  is  music  for  his  ears ; 
He  supposes  that  her  choice 

Left  his  rivals  all  in  tears; 
Let  his  sun  in  splendor  gleam ; 
Do  not  wake  him ;  let  him  dream. 


WHAT     THEY     GIVE 

BRAVO,  little  soldier,  for  the  smile  you  wear; 
You  may  never  conquer  armies  anywhere ; 
Men  may  never  cheer  you  in  the  years  to  be. 
But  the  world  is  richer,  gladder  for  your  glee. 

Bless  you,  little  maiden,  for  your  artless  grace 
And  the  rosy  beauty  that  is  in  your  face ; 
You  may  fade  unnoticed  and  be  lost  to  view ; 
But  the  world  is  brighter  for  possessing  you. 


31 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE     VANITY     OF     WEALTH 

WE  ain't  as  rich  as  some  folks  are,  and  can't 

put  on  much  style ; 
Ma  says  pa's  income  don't  go  far  when  things 

cost  such  a  pile. 
Our  house  is  little  and  the  street  we  live  in 

ain't  so  grand. 
And  ma  cooks  what  we  have  to  eat  and  buys 

things  second-hand.  [so  sad; 

But  still  I  don't  see  why  it  is  that  she  should  be 
We've  got  three  dogs,  and  that's  two  more  than 

Frank  Gill  ever  had. 

Ted  Brewster's  just  as  old  as  me,  and  his  pa 

owns  a  mine 
And  has  a  private  car  and,  gee,  but  where  they 

live  it's  fine! 
Ma  says  that  they're  as  rich  as  sin,  their  house 

is  built  of  stone. 
And  Ted  has  ninety  dollars  in  the  bank  that's 

all  his  own;  [start  of  us; 

But  still  I  don't  see  where  they  get  so  much  the 
We've  got  three  dogs,  and  Ted  he  ain't  got 

none,  poor  little  cuss. 


32 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Sometimes,  along  to'rds  night  when  pa  comes 

home  and  plays  with  Jip 
And  Tige  and  big  old  Nero,  ma  she  kind  of 

curls  her  lip. 
And  says  she's  glad  he  feels  like  play,  and 

wishes  that  she'd  die, 
And  when  I  hear  her  talk  that  way  it  nearly 

makes  me  cry ; 
The  Brewsters  they  got  rich  in  mines,  the 

Gills  in  corn  and  hogs, 
But  still  they  needn't  feel  so  proud — we  beat 

them  all  on  dogs. 


33 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


WHEN     PA     WAS      LITTLE 
LIKE      ME 

ONE  time,  when  ma  was  sick  upstairs  and  pa 

stayed  home  all  day 
And  cut  out  paper  animulz  and  showed  me 

how  to  play 
Aoout  a  hundred  games  or  so,  he  held  me  on 

his  knee 

And  told  me  stories  of  the  fun 
He  used  to  have  and  things  he  done 
Long,  long  ago,  when  he  was  'ist  a  little  boy 

like  me. 

He  used  to  live  out  on  a  farm,  and  they  was 

horses  there 
That  he  could  ride  all  by  himself,  and  one 

time  they's  a  bear 
Come  prowlin'  'round  their  house  at  night, 

and  he  was  awful  big. 

And  sniffed  and  snuffed  and  snooped  around. 
And  then,  next  morning,  why,  they  found 
That  he'd  went  splungin'  through  a  gate  and 

carried  off  a  pig ! 


34 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

And  they's  a  crick  run  through  their  place, 

where  they  could  go  and  wade, 
And  pa  got  almost  drownded  in  a  dam  his 

brothers  made ! 
One  time  he  broke  his  collar  bone  by  fallin' 

from  a  tree 

As  high  as  this  here  house,  I  bet. 
And  wunst  a  load  of  hay  upset, 
With  him  on  top,  when  he  was  'ist  a  little  boy 

like  me. 

I  wisht  'at  I'd  of  lived  out  there  when  pa  went 

tear  in'  'round 
And  rode  the  colts  and  wasn't  told  he  mustn't 

make  a  sound 
When-  they  was  doctors  come  and  brought  a 

baby  from  somewhere ; 
I  wisht  'at  him  and  me'd  'a'  had 
All  day  to  just  keep  bein'  glad, 
And  never  have  to  be  afraid  the  cross  old  nurse 

'ud  care. 

And  wunst,  when  he  was  drivin'  on  a  wagon, 

all  alone. 
The  horses  they  got  scared  and  run,  and  one 

wheel  struck  a  stone, 


35 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

And  pa  went  flyin'  up  and  up  till  he  could 

hardly  see 

The  earth  no  more,  and  then — ka-smack ! 
He  landed  on  a  big  straw  stack. 
Without  a  scratch,  when  he  was  'ist  a  little 
boy  like  me. 

Out  where  pa  lived  when  he  was  'ist  a  little 

boy,  you  know. 
They  had  some  great  big  woods,  and  wunst, 

why,  he  got  lost,  and  so 
They  was  a  moose  come  by,  at  last — a  great, 

big  moose — and  then 
Pa  clumbed  up  on  him,  and  the  moose 
Went  scootin'  like  the  very  deuce. 
And  pretty  soon,  first  thing  pa  knew,  why  he 

was  home  agen ! 

I  have  a  little  bruvver  now,  and  I  like  him  a 

lot,  got. 

And  I  love  ma  about  the  best  of  anything  I've 

And  lots  of  times  she  tells  me  of  the  great  man 

that  I'll  be, 

And  things  is  pleasant  here  to-day — 
But  wisht  I'd  had  a  chance,  some  way, 
To  be  with  pa  when  he  was  'ist  a  little  boy 
like  me. 

36 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


MISTRESS     MERRYFACE 

LITTLE  Mistress  Merryface 

Dances  down  the  way 
With  a  fairy's  airy  grace. 

Cheerful  all  the  day: 

In  the  little  songs  she  sings 
Sweet  the  note  of  gladness  rings, 

Love  looks  from  her  eyes ; 
Gentle,  joyful,  jubilant, 
Every  sunbeam  seems  to  slant 

Her  way  from  the  skies. 

Is  the  world  a  dismal  place 

Hedged  about  by  woe  ? 
Little  Mistress  Merryface 

Does  not  find  it  so : 

Every  day  that  follows  night 
Brings  new  joys  she  has  the  right 

To  possess  or  see; 

When  she  laughs  all  things  appear 
Glad  to  know  that  she  is  near 

Blessing  with  her  glee. 


37 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Sadness  may  not  linger  where 

Her  sweet  song  is  heard ; 
Hatred  hurries  off  with  Care, 

By  her  laughter  spurred ; 

Grateful,  joyful,  jubilant, 

All  the  sunbeams  seem  to  slant 

Downward  but  to  let 

Little  Mistress  Merryface 
Keep  the  world  the  fairest  place 

God  has  made  as  yet. 


THE    TOUCH    OF    JOY 

WITHIN  a  garden  drear  and  bare 
A  fragrant  rose  bloomed  forth,  one  day, 

To  brighten  all  around  it  there 
And  gladden  all  who  passed  that  way. 

Within  a  tyrant's  arms  a  child 
One  day  was  tenderly  caressed ; 

The  sun  upon  his  subjects  smiled 
And  all  his  realm  was  richly  blessed. 


38 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    HAND    THAT    USED    TO 
SPANK    MY    PA 

WHEN  I  go  down  to  grandma's,  where 

There's  always  lots  of  cake  and  pie, 
I  spread  my  bread  with  jelly  there 

And  stuff  up  till  I  nearly  die ! 
The  greatest  fun  you  ever  saw 

Is  slidin'  from  their  steep-roofed  shed, 
And  the  hand  that  used  to  spank  my  pa 

Is  the  hand  that  pats  me  on  the  head. 

I  tear  around  and  yell  and  make 

All. kinds  of  noise,  and  they  don't  mind; 
They  have  no  baby  there  to  wake, 

And  both  of  them  are  awful  kind. 
The  goodest  man  I  ever  saw 

Is  grandpa,  with  his  hair  all  gray. 
And  the  hand  that  used  to  spank  my  pa 

Sews  up  my  trousers  every  day. 


39 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


IF  PA  COULD  HAVE  HIS  WAY 

IF  pa  could  have  his  way  I  bet  that  pretty 

sudden  there 
Would  be  some  changes  that  would  make  the 

people  stop  and  stare; 
There  wouldn't  be  no  heroes  then  exceptin' 

only  pa. 
And  this  would  be  the  greatest  world  a  person 

ever  saw ;  [to  pay. 

We'd  never  have  a  dentist's  or  a  doctor's  bill 
And  ma  would  make  her  clo's  herself,  if  pa 

could  have  his  way. 

If  pa  could  have  his  way  I  guess  that  all  the 

flags  would  fly 
And  everywhere  the  bands  would  play  when 

he  was  passin'  by ; 
The  millionaires  would  have  to  work  to  earn 

their  board  and  keep, 
And  all  the  wheels  on  earth  would  stop  when 

he  laid  down  to  sleep. 
And  ma  would  sit  around  and  smile,  without 

a  word  to  say. 
She'd  only  listen  all  the  while,  if  pa  could  have 

his  way. 

40 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

If  pa  could  only  have  his  way  the  winters 

they'd  be  hot, 
And  in  the  summer  time  the  snow  would  fly, 

I  tell  you  what ! 
The  dry  spells  they  would  all  be  wet,  the  wet 

spells  they'd  be  dry, 
And  when  the  sun  was  shinin'  clouds  would 

spread  across  the  sky ; 
Then  March  would  be  October  and  December 

would  be  May — 
We'd  have  more  Sunday  mornings,  too,  if  pa 

could  have  his  way. 

If  pa  could  have  his  way  the  crowds  would 
cheer  for  him,  I'll  bet. 

And  all  the  fashunable  folks  would  want  us 
in  their  set; 

The  people  that  we  know  would  all  have  less 
than  we  had  then, 

And  never  leave  us  out  when  they  had  com 
pany  again; 

We'd  have  the  best  house  on  the  street,  and 
every  one  would  say 

That  they'd  be  glad  if  they  were  us,  if  pa  could 
have  his  way. 


41 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

If  pa  could  have  his  way  I  guess  that  pretty 

quick  the  hair 
Would  grow  out  nice  and  long  and  thick  on 

one  spot  that  is  bare ; 
The  people  that  he's  working  for  would  be 

his  hired  hands. 
And  every  year  or  so  we'd  go  to  visit  foreign 

lands ; 
His  birthday,  then,  like  Washington's,  would 

be  a  holiday — 
Oh,  what  a  world  this  world  would  be,  if  pa 

could  have  his  way. 


42 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


A  DISCONCERTING    GRANDPA 

WHEN  grandpa  comes  to  visit  us 

And  stays  a  week  or  two. 
And  pa  begins  to  make  a  fuss 

At  everything  I  do. 
And  says  I'm  worse  than  some  disease. 
Then  grandpa  takes  me  on  his  knees. 
And  when  he  lets  me  go 
He  tells  pa  kind  of  low : 

"You  Ought  to  be  more  patienter — boys  will 
be  boys,  you  know." 

When  I  upset  my  soup  one  day. 

And  spilled  it  on  the  floor, 
Pa  told  me  to  go  right  away 

And  not  come  back  no  more; 
He  said  I  ought  to  have  to  get 
My  meals  the  way  the  heathens  et ; 
And  after  while,  when  he 
Was  not  around  to  see, 

Why,  grandpa  gave  me  fifty  cents  to  spend  on 
him  and  me. 


43 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

One  night  when  I  got  whipped  and  sent 

To  bed,  and  it  was  all 
As  dark  as  pitch  up  there,  I  went 

And  listened  in  the  hall. 
And  grandpa  scolded  pa !    Wisht  there 
Was  only  grandpas  everywhere — 
If  all  our  pas,  you  know, 
Could  be  our  grandpas,  oh. 
Then  wouldn't  this  here  world  be  fine  and 
good  to  live  in,  though! 


WOMANLIKE 

i 

SHE  sits  beside  the  window  all  the  day, 
But  never  sees  the  people  who  go  by; 

Her  look  is  very,  very  far  away 
And  now  and  then  she  draws  a  gentle  sigh. 

She  waits  for  one  to  come  who  never  will. 
For  one  who  bade  her  wait  for  him,  one  day ; 

And  if  he  came  she'd  spurn  his  touch,  but  still 
She  waits  for  him  and  grieves  her  life  away. 


44 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


AT  THE   CRITICAL   MOMENT 

THEY  stood  with  glaring  eyes, 

Their  fists  were  clinched  and  drawn; 
"I'll  thrash  you  so,"  said  Johnny  Wise, 
"You'll  not  know  paste  from  punkin  pies 
Or  where  your  teeth  have  gone!" 

"And  while  you're  doin'  that," 

Said  Eddie  Burlingame, 
"I'll  flatten  you  so  good  and  flat, 
I  bet  you'll  not  know  where  you're  at. 

Nor  even  what's  your  name." 

Thus  was  their  boasting  done, 

Yet  each  at  heart  was  sick. 
And  Johnny  longed  to  cut  and  run, 
While  Eddie  thought:  "I  wish  some  one 

Would  come  and  part  us  quick." 


45 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


WORLDLY     POSSESSIONS 

RICHES  he  has  and  a  fair  young  wife; 

Fortune  has  favored  him  well  and  oft ; 
She  heaps  his  board  with  the  sweets  of  life. 

He  sleeps  in  a  bed  that  is  wide  and  soft ; 
But  wrinkles  are  forming  around  his  eyes 

And  far  away  where  the  mists  are  gray 
His  boyhood  lies. 

Honor  is  his,  he  has  won  renown. 

His  place  is  high  and  his  fame  secure; 

The  world,  when  death  shall  have  cut  him 

down. 
Will  raise  a  shaft  that  shall  long  endure; 

But  his  form  is  bent  and  his  eyes  are  dim 
And  the  careless  joys  that  should  be  a  boy's 

Are  not  for  him. 

Fame  and  wealth  and  a  lady  fair — 
Who  craves  richer  rewards  than  these? 

But  far  in  the  distant  past  somewhere 
Lie  all  of  his  youthful  ecstasies ! 

Pity  the  man  who  achieves  his  goal 

When  desire  has  fled  and  the  fire  is  dead 

Within  his  soul. 

46 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


HIS     HONORED     NAME 

HE  wandered  from  the  little  town 

A  dozen  years  or  more  ago; 
He  hoped  he  might  achieve  renown. 

And  fancied  he  was  doing  so; 
He  thought  of  those  who  stayed  behind 

To  toil  unseen  and  die  unknown. 
While  he,  more  fortunate  than  they. 
Was  mounting  upward,  day  by  day, 

And  claiming  laurels  as  his  own. 

He  went  back,  when  he  thought  his  fame 

Had  spread  to  every  land  and  clime. 
When  he  supposed  his  honored  name 

Had  been  exalted  for  all  time — 
When  he  believed  that  every  man, 

From  Budapest  to  Hackensack 
And  from  Spokane  to  Ispahan, 
Must  know  that  few  were  greater  than 

He  had  become,  he  traveled  back. 

An  ancient  settler  met  him  where 

He  lingered  when  the  train  had  gone : 
"Well,  Dan'l  Binks,  I  do  declare!" 


47 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

The  old  man  murmured,  "Well,  I  swan! 
I'm  glad  to  see  you  back  ag'in, 

I  am,  by  gum !    You're  lookin'  prime — 
Say,  Dan'l,  if  the  question's  fair, 
What  you  been  drivin'  at,  and  where 

Have  you  been  stayin'  all  this  time?" 


HOW     PITIFUL   'TWOULD     BE 

How  pitiful  'twere  if  when  one 

Fair  rose  had  blown, 
The  bush  should  droop,  its  bearing  done. 

Its  vigor  flown. 

How  pitiful  'twould  be  if  men 

Who  love  and  lose 
Could  never  find  the  way  again 

That  Love  pursues. 


48 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

PA    AS    A    PATIENT 

PA  he's  become  a  patient,  the  doctor  told  us 

so; 

He  caught  the  influenza  about  a  month  ago. 
He  stays  home  from  the  office  about  three 

days  a  week 
And  seems  to  want  to  show  us  that  he  ain't 

mild  and  meek; 
He  scolds  us  and  he  grumbles  and  rips  and 

tears  around; 
He  grits  his  teeth  and  mumbles  and  jumps  at 

every  sound ; 
He  tells  us  that  he  wishes  he  was  drownded 

in  the  sea — 
Pa's  a  blamed  impatient  patient,  so,  at  least, 

he  seems  to  me. 

Ma  begs  him  every  morning  to  stay  at  home 

in  bed. 
Then  he  rages  and  he  scolds  her  and  our 

hearts  get  full  of  dread ; 
The  doctor  comes  to  see  him  every  other  day 

or  two, 
And  he's  takin'  twenty-seven  kinds  of  stuff  to 

pull  him  through; 

49 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

But  he  don't  seem  to  be  gettin'  any  better 

very  quick, 
And  he  keeps  on  sadly  frettin',  and  he's  made 

ma  nearly  sick, 
To  catch  him  here  the  doctor  has  to  track 

him  like  a  sleuth — 
Pa's  a  blamed  impatient  patient,  if  you  want 

to  know  the  truth. 

He  thinks  the  world  is  goin'  to  the  dickens 

right  away, 
And  we  almost  think  so  with  him  when  he 

stays  at  home  a  day ; 
Last  night  he  kicked  a  panel  nearly  from  the 

bathroom  door 

And  got  wild  because  the  baby  left  his  tooth 
brush  on  the  floor ; 
He  seems  to  think  he's  dyin*  every  time  he 

has  an  ache, 
And  he  wastes  his  money  buyin*  all  the  stuff 

he's  told  to  take; 
It  seems  to  make  him  nervous  if  we  even  dare 

to  wink; 
Pa's  a  blamed  impatient  patient,  if  you  ask  me 

what  I  think. 


50 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

This  morning  when  the  doctor  came  before 

pa  could  escape, 
He  asked:     "Well,  how's  our  patient?     Is  he 

rounding  into  shape?" 
Gee,  you  ought  'a'  heard  pa  roast  him!  "Why, 

you  darned  old  quack,"  he  said, 
"With  the  treatment  that  you  gave  me  it's 

a  wonder  I'm  not  dead! 
You  get  out  of  here  and  stay  out;  I've  got 

through  with  you  for  good!" 
So  the  doctor  found  his  way  out  and  I  guess 

he  understood; 
But  ma  couldn't  keep  from  cryin'   as  she 

stood  and  watched  him  go — 
Pa's,  a   blamed    impatient   patient,    but    we 

dastn't  tell  him  so. 


51 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THEIR     LAST    GOOD-BY 

SHE  bade  him  go;  her  eyelids  drooped; 

Then,  with  an  air  defiant,  grand, 
Turned  coldly  from  him  as  he  stooped 

To  press  his  lips  upon  her  hand. 

She  said:  "Farewell!  'Tis  better  so; 

I  wish  you  future  joy — good-by!" 
She  proudly  stood  and  saw  him  go, 

Her  air  was  calm,  her  head  was  high. 

She  said,  "Farewell!"  and  hastily 
Pinned  blushing  roses  on  her  breast 

And  fluffed  her  hair  up,  so  that  she, 

When  he  came  back,  might  look  her  best. 


52 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    BOY    WITH     THE     PONY 

MOST  every  day  a  little  boy  comes  drivin'  past 
our  house  [a  mouse ; 

With  the  nicest  little  pony — just  the  color  of 

And  a  groom  rides  close  beside  him,  so  he 
won't  get  hurt,  you  see, 

And  I  used  to  wish  his  pony  and  the  cart 
belonged  to  me. 

I  used  to  watch  him  from  the  porch  and  wish 
that  I  could  own  [alone, 

His  pony  and  his  little  cart  and  drive  out  all 

And  once,  when  I  knelt  down  at  night,  I 
prayed  the  Lord  that  He 

Would  fix  it  so  the  pony  and  the  cart  belonged 
to  me. 

But  yesterday  I  saw  him  where  he  lives,  and 

now  I  know 
Why  he  never  goes  out  walking — 'cause  his 

legs  are  withered  so — 
And  last  night  when  I  was  kneeling  with  my 

head  on  mother's  knee 
I  was  glad  he  had  the  pony  and  the  cart, 

instead  of  me. 

S3 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


SONG     OF     THE     MORNING 

THE  sun  is  up,  the  world's  awake, 
Its  peaks  gleam  out  above  the  mists; 

The  glad  wind  sings  through  bower  and  brake, 
And  still  the  universe  exists. 

Who  fears  that  pains  or  cries  that  ills 
May  come  to  plague  us  ere  tonight? 

The  morning's  glow  is  on  the  hills. 
The  valleys  claim  a  new  delight. 

The  shadows  that  were  dull  and  gray 

Like  beaten  regiments  retreat ; 
The  world  has  gained  another  day. 

Its  roads  are  waiting  for  our  feet. 

The  sun  is  up,  the  world's  awake. 
With  all  its  fortunes  day  has  dawned, 

And  Duty  calls  us  forth  to  take 
The  highway  to  the  fair  Beyond. 


54 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


COMRADES    OF     THE 
H  IGHWAY 

I. 

COME,  little  boy,  and  take  my  hand;  we'll 

face  the  world  together ; 
Impart  your  hope  to  me  and  I  will  laugh  at 

wind  and  weather; 
My  arm  shall  be  your  faithful  shield,  my  love 

your  heart's  reliance — 
Come,  take  my  hand,  and  we  will  bid  the 

fates  that  frown  defiance. 

II. 

With  you  to  give  me  hope  and  you  to  cheer 

me  on  the  highway, 
My  footsteps  never  shall  be  turned  down  any 

shameful  byway; 
My  arm  shall  be  your  pillow  when  the  bright 

stars  twinkle  o'er  us. 
And  I  will  give  you  courage  on  the  hills  that 

stretch  before  us. 


55 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


III. 

My  years  shall  yield  you  knowledge,   I  will 

be  your  strong  defender. 
And  you  shall  keep  my  spirit  pure,  my  proud 

heart  brave  and  tender, 
Come,  little  boy,   and  take  my  hand;  we'll 

face  the  world  together. 
And  bear  no  fear  and  brook  no  doubt  in  glad 

or  gloomy  weather. 


HIS     SHIP 

"Mv  ship,"  he  said,  "will  come  some  day. 
With  riches  in  its  hold  for  me." 

He  let  his  best  years  drift  away. 

What  time  he  watched  beside  the  sea. 

When  age  had  made  him  blind  and  weak 
He  wondered  at  the  long  delay ; 

The  reason  was  not  far  to  seek : 
He'd  never  sent  a  ship  away. 


56 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    STRANGER    AT    THE 
GATE 

JIM  never  liked  it  on  the  farm;  he  used  to  lay 

around  and  shirk. 
Or  gallivant  away  to  town  while  we  stayed 

home  and  done  the  work ; 
Pa  jawed  a  lot,  but  ma,  somehow,  was  always 

speakin'  up  fer  Jim; 
She  dearly  loved  us  all,  o'  course,  but  still  her 

favorite  was  him. 

His  hands  were  small  and  soft  and  white,  his 

feet  were  little,  like  a  girl's; 
He  had  no  freckles  on  his  face,  his  hair  kinked 

up  in  graceful  curls ; 
Ma  used  to  say — I  hear  her  yit — at  least  it 

seems  as  though  I  can — 
"The  fam'ly  must  be  poor  indeed  that  can't 

afford  one  gentleman." 

Well,  Jim,  as  likely  you  have  guessed,  packed 
up  his  duds  and  went  away; 

The  old  farm  wa'n't  no  place  fer  him;  ma's 
eyes  were  wet  with  tears  that  day. 


57 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

But  though  she  wept  she  said  she  knew  'twas 

sensible  fer  Jim  to  leave. 
The  city  was  the  place  fer  men  that  wished  to 

conquer  and  achieve. 

The  farm  had  never  been  much  good;  the 

stones  were  thick,  the  soil  was  poor; 
We  done  our  best,  but  year  by  year  kept 

slippin'  backward  slow  and  sure; 
Pa  lost  his  health,  his  courage  failed;  ma's 

hair  got  gray,  her  eyes  grew  dim. 
But  though  her  heart  was  often  sad  she  never 

lost  her  faith  in  Jim. 

At  last  the  sheriff  come;  'twas  what  we  knew 

would  happen  soon  or  late; 
The  neighbors  crowded  in  and  then  we  seen  a 

stranger  at  the  gate. 
The   sheriff   raised   his   hammer   twice,    the 

stranger  looked  him  in  the  face 
And  bid  a  hundred  dollars  more — and  was 

the  owner  of  the  place. 

'Twas  many  years  since  Jim  had  loafed  while 
we  had  worked  with  rake  or  hoe, 


58 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

'Twas  many  years  since  ma  had  wept  the  day 

that  she  had  saw  him  go ; 
The  stranger  was  a  handsome  man   whose 

hands  were  white  and  soft  and  small. 
And  ma  was  disappointed  when  we  found  he 

wasn't  Jim  at  all. 


WHEN    AGE    COMES    ON 

LOVE  has  no  age,  'tis  always  young; 

Brows  may  be  marred  and  heads  bent  down; 
Gray  hairs  may  come  to  gleam  among 

The  locks  that  once  were  soft  and  brown. 
But  not  till  love  forsakes  the  heart 
Does  age  arrive  or  youth  depart. 

Love  laughs  at  years  which  dim  the  eyes, 
And  mocks  the  ruthless  lines  that  mar ; 

Love  sees  no  skies  but  rosy  skies. 
And  ne'er  from  childhood  wanders  far; 

Tis  only  after  love  is  gone 

That  youth  departs  and  age  comes  on. 


59 


THE      LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 

ROMANCE 

"ROMANCE  is  dead,"  the  cynic  said, 
"With  knighthood  it  has  passed  away; 

The  useless  armor's  rust  is  red— 
Who  does  or  dares  for  love  to-day? 

"The  shield  whereon  the  lover  wore 
His  lady's  colors  is  no  more, 
The  charger  stands  with  drooping  head. 
Tied  in  his  stall — romance  is  dead." 

A  woman,  young  and  glad  and  fair. 

Stepped  lightly  forth  and  deigned  to  pause; 

The  cynic  looked  and  longed  to  dare 
And  do  to  win  her  sweet  applause. 

She  tarried  but  a  little  while 
And  gave  him  but  a  passing  smile, 
Yet  as  they  went  their  ways  he  thought 
Of  knights  in  armor  richly  wrought. 

He  saw  himself  with  shield  and  lance 
Whereon  her  colors  brightly  shone; 

He  felt  his  steed  beneath  him  prance. 
And  for  her  life  he  risked  his  own. 


60 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

The  armor  rusts  behind  the  door, 
The  knight  rides  forth  to  joust  no  more, 
But  o'er  romance  say  no  last  prayer 
While  men  are  strong  and  women  fair. 


FAMILY    TROUBLES 

LAST  week  our  baby  had  a  spazzum, 

And  I've  had  scarlet  rash, 
And  we've  got  hives,  too — pa  he  has  'em. 

And  our  dog's  name  is  Dash, 
And  he  has  forty  million  fleas 

That  keep  him  busy  scratchin' ! 

Ma  says  we  haven't  any  cash 
Nor  credit  nor  idees, 

'Cause  they're  things  that  ain't  catchin'. 


61 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

GROUNDS    FOR    SUSPICION 

LITTLE  Henry  Wilkinson  ain't  livin'  any  more; 
He  got  the  scarlet  fever  and  he's  on  the  other 

shore; 
He  always  went  to  Sunday  school,  and  never 

told  a  lie; 
He  never  had  no  fights,  and  he's  got  wings  up 

in  the  sky : 
Pa  looked  at  ma  and  nearly  wep,  the  day  the 

news  was  brung. 
And  said  he  knew  that  Henry'd  go,  because 

the  good  die  young. 

Most  every  day  they  scold  at  me  for  something 

that  I've  done. 
And  say  they  wish  I'd  be  as  good  as  Henry 

Wilkinson; 
When  I  forget  and  disobey  or  don't  come  when 

they  call, 
Or  kick  the  door  or  tear  my  clo's  or  mark 

things  on  the  wall 
It  always  makes  them  think  about  poor  little 

Henry  who 
Is  gone  because  the  good  die  young — and  I'm 

so  healthy,  too ! 

62 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

They're  always  say  in'  that  if  I'd  obey  them 

they'd  be  glad. 
And  every  chance  they  get  they  tell  me  how 

to  not  be  bad ; 
They  make  me  go  to  Sunday  school  and  learn 

the  text  by  heart 
Like  Henry  did  before  his  folks  and  him  were 

forced  to  part : 
Sometimes  I  get  to  wonderin'  if  such  a  thing 

could  be 
That  pa  and  ma  are  schemin'  to  get  out  of 

raisin'  me. 


63 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE   PEACEMAKER 

'TWAS  just  about  a  year  ago  that  Fanny  run 

away. 
And  left  her  ma  and  me  alone — eloped  with 

Philip  Gray; 
He'd  come  a-shinin'  round  her  off  and  on  six 

months  or  so. 
Though  he  seen  I  didn't  like  him — I  took  pains 

to  let  him  know — 
For  I'd  got  a  sort  of  notion  that  he  thought 

it  'ud  be  fine  [of  mine. 

If  he  helped  our  girl  inherit  all  this  property 

By  a  lot  of  good,  hard  workin'  and  by  managin' 

things  right 
I  have  what  is  called  a  fortune — oh,  of  course, 

it's  just  a  mite 
As   compared   with   Rockefeller's,    though    I 

thought,  'twixt  me  and  you. 
That  our  Fanny,  bein'  purty  and  well  eddi- 

cated,  too. 
Had  the  right  to  look  for  some  one  that  was 

higher  up  than  Phil ; 
But  it's  wastin'  time  to  argue  when  a  woman 

says  she  will. 

64 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

So  they  run  off  and  got  married.    Ma  was 

anxious  from  the  start 
To  be  kind  of  easy  with  'em;  said  that  Phil 

was  good  at  heart ; 
But  I  sent  'em  word  to  never  set  their  feet 

inside  my  door; 
I  was  through  with  both  forever — yes,  I  said 

them  words  and  more ! 
Made  my  will  and  left  my  money,  every  bit, 

to  charity — 
Tother  day  they  had  a  baby — and  they've 

named  him  after  me 

Lawsy,  .but  it  did  seem  lonesome  after  Fanny  *d 

went  away ! 
Ma  she  moped,  and  you  could  nearly  see  her 

brown  hair  turnin'  gray. 
And  the  silence  used  to  kind  o'  get  so  loud  I'd 

want  to  shout 
Or  slam  doors  or  pound  on  something,  thinkin' 

I  could  drownd  it  out. — 
Cute?    By  George,  the  little  rascal's  just  as 

cute  as  he  can  be ! 
Not  a  single  blemish  on   'im,   and  they've 

named  him  after  me. 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

If  you'd  told  me  things  could  ever  be  as  gloomy 

round  the  place 
As  they've  been  since  Fanny  left  us  I'd  of 

snickered  in  your  face ; 
Why,  the  very  sun  has  seemed  to  kind  o'  hate, 

somehow,  to  shine. 
And  last  summer  not  a  rosebud  showed  itself 

on  Fanny's  vine. — 
Little  rascal!    Everybody  says  he's  got  my 

nose  and  chin, 
And  he  smiled  as  though  he  knew  me  when  he 

seen  me  peepin'  in. 

Yes,  ma  took  me  up  this  mornin'  and  I've  just 
destroyed  my  will ; 

Come  to  think  the  matter  over,  there  are 
worse  young  men  than  Phil ; 

He's  been  doin'  splendid  lately. — I  believe  that 
little  tike 

Must  of  knew  I  was  his  grandpa,  for  he 
looked  up  lovin'  like 

When  they  got  the  nurse  to  let  me  hold  him 
propped  up  on  my  knee; 

Weighed  eight  pounds,  and — have  I  men 
tioned  that  they've  named  him  after  me  ? 


66 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 
A  HERO 

THEY  got  a  norphun  boy  next  door;  he  come 

there  yesterday. 
And  he  has  six  toes  on  one  foot  and  double 

joints,  they  say ; 
They  brought  him  from  the  'sylum  and  his 

hair  is  kind  of  red. 
And  he  hasn't  any  parents,  for  his  ma  and  pa 

are  dead. 

When  we  were  up  in  Johnson's  barn  this 
afternoon — I  s'pose 

You'll  not  believe  it — but  he  hung  head  down 
ward  by  his  toes. 

And  he  can  skin  the  cat  and  give  a  jump  up 
in  the  air 

And  turn  a  flip-flap  and  not  touch  a  finger 
anywhere. 

And  he  can  wiggle  both  his  ears  and  look 

cross-eyed  and  play 

The  jewsharp,  or,  at  least,  he  says  so  anyway. 
And  all  the  girls  think  no  one  else  can  do  what 

he  can  do; 
I  almost  wisht  sometimes  that  I  would  be  a 

norphun,  too. 

67 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    LITTLE    VOICE 

OH,  little  boy,  my  little  boy. 

You  always  have  your  way ! 
You  tease  until  you  bend  my  will 

A  hundred  times  a  day. 
You  lay  your  face  against  my  cheek. 
And  I  that  should  be  strong  am  weak — 

I  cannot  say  you  nay. 

Oh,  little  boy,  my  little  boy, 

A  vision  comes  to  me ! 
I  see  a  child  that  seldom  smiled 

Or  uttered  shouts  of  glee. 
Within  his  breast  his  yearnings  died. 
And,  buffeted  from  side  to  side, 

He  learned  humility. 

Oh,  little  boy,  my  little  boy, 

I  hear  you  plead,  and  lo ! 
There  comes  to  me  another's  plea — 

There  comes  from  long  ago 
The  little  voice  of  one  that  knew 
Few  pleasures,  pleading,  dear,  for  you — 

How  can  I  answer  no? 


68 


THE     LAND      OF     LITTLE     CARE 

Oh,  little  boy,  my  little  boy, 

Ask  what  you  will  to-day ! 
You  shall  not  fret  while  I  may  let 

You  have  your  gleeful  way ; 
For  far  out  there  where  you  must  go 
The  world  will  often  answer  no — 

Be  master  while  you  may. 


SCANDAL  AND    TRUTH 

A  LITTLE  scandal  trickled  through 

Where  gossip  cracked  the  wall. 
And  rapidly  the  volume  grew 

That  was  at  first  so  small. 
They  sought  with  truth  to  fill  the  rent. 
To  close  the  ugly  breach,  but  spent 
Their  efforts  all  in  vain,  for,  like 
The  stream  that  steals  out  through  the  dike. 
Foul  scandal's  volume  swells  and  spreads; 

Beginning  as  a  subtle  slur 
It  quickly  wrecks  and  rips  to  shreds 

The  splendid  walls  of  character. 


69 


THE      LAND     OF     LITTLE     CARE 


NEEDLESS     DELAY 

HE. 

SOME  day  I  shall  find  you  in  heaven. 

Wherever  our  heaven  may  be ; 
Some  day  I  shall  find  you  and  know  you. 

And  you  shall  give  greeting  to  me ! 
It  may  be  on  yonder  pale  planet. 

Or  past  the  last  limits  of  space, 
But,  oh,  I  shall  find  you  and  clasp  you 

In  long  and  ecstatic  embrace. 

Ere  the  day  of  our  meeting  a  billion 

Of  aeons  may  have  to  elapse ; 
The  sun  may  cease  blazing  and  crumble 

And  you  will  grow  weary  perhaps ; 
But  I  will  not  rest  till  I  find  you. 

Wherever  our  heaven  may  be, 
And  I  shall  be  richly  rewarded 

When  you  turn  to  give  greeting  to  me. 


70 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


SHE. 

Some  day  is  far,  far  in  the  future. 

And  who  can  be  sure  that  the  sky 
Will  open  for  us  in  the  morning 

When  the  night  we  call  "Life"  has  gone  by? 
And  heaven,  if  heaven  awaits  us. 

May  reach  to  such  heights  and  so  far 
That  you  never,  ah,  never  can  find  me, 

No  matter  how  zealous  you  are. 

And  even  if  after  long  aeons 
We  meet  in  far  stretches  of  space. 

And  you  swoop,  as  I  tremble,  to  clasp  me 
In  long  and  ecstatic  embrace. 

Why  wait  for  such  joy  or  that  glory. 
Why  lay  the  glad  scene  in  the  sky? 

There's  nobody  looking  at  present- 
Why  wait  for  the  ecstasy  ?    Why — ? 


71 


THE      LAND     OF     LITTLE      CARE 

THE    FAR-OFF    CALL 

i. 

IF  out  beyond  the  city's  farthest  edge 
There  were  no  roads  that  led  through  sleepy 
towns. 

No  winds  to  blow  through  any  thorny  hedge. 
No  pathways  over  hazel-tufted  downs, 

I  might  not,  when  the  day  begins,  be  sad 

Because  I  toil  among  the  money-mad. 

H. 

If  out  beyond  the  distant  hills  there  lay 
No  valley  graced  by  any  winding  stream, 

And  if  no  slim,  white  steeples  far  away 
Might  mark  the  spots  where  drowsy  hamlets 
dream, 

I  could,  perhaps,  at  midday  be  content 

Where  striving  millions  at  their  tasks  are  bent. 

HI. 
If  far  away  from  noise  and  strife  and  care 

There  were  no  buds  to  swell  on  waiting  trees, 
No  mating  birds  to  spill  upon  the  air 

The  liquid  sweetness  of  their  melodies, 
I  might  at  sunset  be  serene  and  proud 
Because  a  few  had  seen  me  in  the  crowd. 


72 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE      CARE 


LONG     AGO 

WE  strolled  along  the  river's  brink, 

Each  dreaming  golden  dreams ; 
We  saw  the  happy  cattle  drink, 
We  saw  the  glints  and  gleams 
The  sunlight  made 
Where  ripples  played, 
We  heard  the  water  flow 
Like  music  down  the  pebbly  way — 
But  that  was  long  ago ! 

We  loitered  where  the  shadows  fell. 

And  love  was  all  we  knew ; 
We  lingered  in  a  happy  spell, 
A  blissful  hour  or  two; 

The  sun  slipped  down 
Behind  the  town. 
And  set  the  spires  aglow 
As  hand  in  hand  we  journeyed  back- 
But  that  was  long  ago! 

I  heard  her  father's  harsh  decree, 

For  they  had  pride  of  birth. 
And  she  obeyed  him,  leaving  me 


73 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

To  wander  o'er  the  earth. 
I  went  away 
That  summer  day 
To  sound  the  depths  of  woe. 
For  hope  had  died  within  my  breast — 
But  that  was  long  ago ! 

One  day  the  goddess  Fortune  came 

And  entered  at  my  door. 
And  one  in  mourning  bore  a  name 
That  was  not  hers  of  yore ! 
A  lovesick  boy 
Had  thought  that  joy 
Was  not  for  him  to  know, 
Had  thought  that  even  hope  was  dead — 
But  that  was  long  ago ! 

I  went  again  to  where  the  stream 

Wound  down  the  pebbly  way 
And  loitered  on  its  banks  to  dream. 
As  in  that  former  day; 

The  sun  slipped  down 
Behind  the  town. 
And  set  the  spires  aglow ! 
The  scene  had  sweet  enchantment  once — 
But  that  was  long  ago ! 

74 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Alone  again  I  sought  repose. 

Far  from  the  clang  and  roar ; 
I  gazed  upon  a  faded  rose 
As  I  had  oft  before. 

And  lightly  cast 
It  down,  at  last, 
And  wisely  came  to  know 
How  foolishly  a  boy  had  wept — 
But  that  was  long  ago ! 


THE  CHANCE 

WE  sigh  because  no  chance  remains 

For  us  to  win  renown  or  praise. 
Or  claim  the  large  material  gains 

Which  we  have  longed  for  all  our  days. 
And  presently  some  unknown  one 

Contrives  to  make  himself  sublime 
By  doing  things  we  might  have  done 

If  we  had  thought  of  them  in  time. 


75 


THE     LAND      OF     LITTLE     CARE 


WHEN  GRANDMA  COMES  TO 
OUR    HOUSE 

WHEN  grandma  comes  to  our  house 

It  makes  me  awful  glad, 
Because  she  always  takes  my  part 

When  I've  been  actin'  bad; 
She  asks  my  father  please  to  not 

Be  cross  or  punish  me, 
And  then  she  shames  him  when  she  tells 

How  bad  he  used  to  be. 

When  I  was  slidin'  yesterday 

And  tore  my  trousers  so, 
She  said:  "Now,  James,  don't  punish  him. 

You  did  those  things,  you  know." 
And  then  he  snuck  away,  upstairs, 

And  grandma  looked  at  me 
And  said  I'm  just  the  kind  of  boy 

My  father  used  to  be. 

And  one  day  when  I  runned  away, 

And  stayed  till  nearly  night, 
And  then  came  home  without  my  hat 

And  was  a  fearful  sight. 


76 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

My  father  stormed  and  then  I  guess 

That  he'd  'a'  punished  me 
If  grandma  hadn't  up  and  told 

How  bad  he  used  to  be. 

I'm  awful  glad  when  grandma  comes, 

I  wish  she'd  always  stay, 
For  then's  the  time  that  I  don't  get 

A  whipping  every  day, 
And  there's  a  look  in  father's  eyes 

That's  very  nice  to  see 
When  grandma  says  I'm  just  the  kind 

Of  boy  he  used  to  be. 


77 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


DEACON     BROWN 

A  PIOUS  man  was  Deacon  Brown, 

He  never  raged  or  swore; 
A  cyclone  blew  his  kitchen  down 

And  through  his  orchard  tore, 
But  when  he  rose  up  somewhat  dazed 
And  took  a  long,  full  breath  and  gazed 

Upon  the  havoc  that  was  wrought, 
He  uttered  not  a  single  shrill. 
Profane  remark  about  it.     Still, 

I  wonder  what  he  thought  ? 

The  deacon's  gray  mare  ran  away 

And  badly  scattered  things ; 
The  road  was  littered  up  that  day 

With  hubs  and  spokes  and  springs. 
The  deacon  crawled  out  from  the  wreck 
And  felt  his  brow  and  rubbed  his  neck. 

And  when  the  foaming  mare  was  caught 
He  kept  his  thin  lips  tightly  shut 
And  stood  there  saying  nothing.    But 

I  wonder  what  he  thought? 


78 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

The  deacon  had  a  daughter  who 

Eloped  one  moonless  night. 
With  Ebenezer  Pettigrew, 

A  shiftless,  worthless  wight. 
The  deacon  did  not  chase  the  pair; 
Next  day  he  sat  with  rumpled  hair 

And  furrowed  brow  and  saying  naught ; 
Sometimes  he  clinched  his  fists,  'tis  true, 
And  many  a  long,  deep  sigh  he  drew — 

I  wonder  what  he  thought  ? 


79 


THE   LAND   OF  LITTLE   CARE 

THE  MAN  FROM  YORK  STATE 

OLD  Bill  Simpson  come  from  York  State:  if  a 

thing  was  big  or  fine 
He  could  always  think  of  something  more  sur- 

prisin'  in  that  line; 
When  Joe  Humphrey  had   his   tumor.  Bill 

looked  at  it,  and  said  he : 
"It's  a  big  one,  I  acknowledge,  and  I'm  glad 

it  ain't  on  me. 
But  I  knew  a  man  in  York  State  who'd  a 

tumor  that  I'll  bet 
Was  three  times  as  big  as  this  one — and  it 

may  be  growin'  yet. 

If  we  raised  a  calf  or  punkin  that  was  some 
thing  extra,  Bill 

Always  knew  of  one  in  York  State  that  had 
been  much  grander  still ; 

When  Dave  Henderson's  wife  left  him,  just 
because  he'd  killed  her  cat, 

Bill  said:  "We'd  a  case  in  York  State  which 
was  ruther  worse'n  that : 

Once,  down  there,  a  married  woman  left  her 
husband's  bed  and  board 

On  account  of  a  loose  window — that  'ud  rattle 
when  he  snored." 

80 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

You  couldn't  beat  old  York  State,  wet  or  dry 

or  night  or  day. 
And  we  used  to  often  wonder  why  Bill  ever 

moved  away; 
When  the  Trask's  folks  had  their  triplets  Bill 

he  stood  and  shook  his  head 
While  he  fingered  his  chin  whiskers  sort  of 

thoughtful-like,  and  said : 
"Well,  yes,  three's  a  lot!  I  dunno  as  I'd  care 

for  any  more — 
But  I  knew  a  York  State  fambly  once  that 

had  a  bunch  of  four!" 

When  Hank  Williams  had  the  dropsy  and  was 

.     tapped  by  Doctor  Grubb 
The  water  they  took  from  him  was  enough  to 

fill  a  tub; 
Bill  was  silent  when  we  told  him,  and  seemed 

thoughtful  for  a  spell. 
And  we  guessed  we'd  got  him  beaten;  but,  at 

last,  he  answered :  "Well, 
I  don't  want  to  do  no  castin'  of  reflections 

onto  Hank, 
But  a  man  I  knew  in  York  State,  when  they 

tapped  him,  filled  a  tank!" 


81 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Poor  old  Bill!  He's  crossed  the  river,  and  I 

hope  he's  happy  there, 
Where  he  needn't  deal  with  people  that  ain't 

always  fair  and  square ; 
He'd  a  good  heart  in  him — Bill  had — done  a 

lot  of  noble  things, 
But  I'll  bet  you  when  they  brought  him  out 

his  crown  and  harp  and  wings 
That  he  turned  to  old  Saint  Peter,  or  some 

angel  bowin'  low, 
As    he    said:  "It's    mighty    splendid — York 

State  beats  it  easy,  though." 


82 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

TRANQUILLITY 

A  BLISSFUL  peace  broods  o'er  the  scene; 

The  clang  and  roar  have  died  away; 
The  city  lies  at  rest,  serene, 

Despite  the  strife  of  yesterday ; 
The  warlike  sparrows  e'en  have  ceased 

To  raise  their  shrill  defiant  cries, 
And,  far  off,  in  the  purple  east, 

The  long  waves  gently  fall  and  rise. 

The  breeze  that  comes  to  softly  stir 

The  drowsy  leaves  and  sway  the  vine 
Is  like  a  lagging  messenger 

From  realms  far  distant  and  divine; 
The  pealing  of  the  matin  bell 

Falls  sweetly,  gently  on  the  ear; 
The  mellow  tones  recede  and  swell, 

By  turns  afar  and  near  and  clear. 

The  former  rude,  sarcastic  jay 

Sits  meekly  on  the  swaying  limb; 
The  brook  that  murmured  yesterday 

Now  sings  a  sacred,  hopeful  hymn. 
Peace  broods  o'er  all  the  scene  save  where 

The  pig  half  in  the  shadow  lies 
And  fiercely  flips  one  ear  to  scare 

Away  the  Sabbath-breaking  flies. 

83 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


TO    A    FATHERLESS    CHILD 

HERE,  little  stranger,  is  a  place 

Within  my  arms  where  you  may  rest ; 
Upon  your  cheek  I  see  the  trace 

Of  sorrows  lurking  in  your  breast ; 
Come,  leaving  doubt  and  scorning  fear. 

And  let  me  cause  you  to  forget 
The  woe  that  wrung  from  you  the  tear 

That  trembles  on  your  lashes  yet. 

The  grief  you  bear  is  not  a  thing 

That  I  who  greet  you  never  bore; 
Come,  little  stranger,  let  me  bring 

The  laughter  to  your  lips  once  more ; 
The  love  which  you  may  win  from  me 

Shall  be  such  love  as  I  would  pray 
My  little  one  might  find  if  he 

Went  fatherless  upon  his  way. 


84 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


JOHNNY'S     AGE 

I  'M  just  exactly  old  enough 

To  always  have  to  run 
When  ma  wants  something  from  the  store 
Or  pa  can  think  of  something  more 

Around  here  to  be  done. 

I'm  lots  and  lots  too  old — at  least 
That's  what  they  always  say — 

To  fly  a  kite  or  have  a  sling 

Or  ever  do  most  anything 
They  seem  to  think  is  play. 

But  pa  and  ma,  when  I'm  around. 

Most  always  whisper,  though. 
Or  else  they  make  me  hurry  out, 
'Cause  they've  so  much  to  talk  about 
That  I'm  too  young  to  know. 


85 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE     RUNAWAY 

THE  little  boy  who  ran  away 

Because  he  thought  I  wronged  him  so, 
Who  turned  before  he  went  to  say 
That  I  would  weep  in  vain,  some  day. 

And  wish  I  had  not  let  him  go. 
Is  standing  yonder  by  the  gate. 
And  I  must  sadly  let  him  wait. 

Oh,  little  boy,  you  think  me  cold. 

But  love  that  will  not  let  me  rest 
Is  urging  me  to  fondly  fold 
You  in  my  willing  arms  and  hold 
You  closely  to  my  eager  breast ; 
Come — come,  my  little  boy,  and  let 
Us  both  forgive  and  both  forget. 

Your  poor,  bruised  little  feet  may  ache ! 

You  think  that  I  have  done  you  wrong; 
But,  though  your  little  heart  should  break, 
I  must  be  stubborn  for  your  sake, 

For  you  I  must  be  stern  and  strong — 
Make  haste — make  haste,  my  little  one. 
Or  I  shall  weakly  be  undone! 


86 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

The  little  boy  who  said  good-by 

In  anger  as  I  watched  him  start 
Is  coming  through  the  gate,  and  I 
Forgive  the  wrong  he  did  and  fly 

To  clasp  him  closely  to  my  heart ! — 
The  stars  are  gleaming  forth  for  joy. 
My  little  boy!    My  little  boy! 


FROWNS 

IF  frowns  had  any  market-price 

Or  grumbling  helped  one  anywhere, 
I  should  not  venture  or  presume 
To  bid  you  cease  to  walk  in  gloom 

Or  put  away  the  frown  you  wear ; 
It  would  be  foolish  and  unfair 

To  give  you  any  such  advice 
Or  to  persuade  you  that  a  smile 
Of  hopefulness  were  worth  your  while- 

If  frowns  had  any  market-price. 


87 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 


THE  MAN  WHO  MADE  HIS 
MARK 

"I'VE  been  on  Bunker  Hill,"  he  said;  "I  do  not 

just  remember  now 
Which  side  it  was  that  won  the  fight,  or  what 

it  was  that  caused  the  row. 
But  when  you  climb  the  shaft  which  stands 

upon  that  hilltop,  tall  and  fair. 
You'll  find,  if  you've  a  mind  to  look,  my  full 

name  plainly  written  there 

"I've  been  down  in  that  canyon  which   I 

heard  a  scientist  once  say 
Was  Nature's  greatest  wonder-work;  it  may 

not  be  so,  or  it  may ; 
I  don't  recall  its  depth  or  width  or  how  the 

thing  was  made  or  when. 
But  on  a  rock  down  there  somewhere  are  my 

initials,  gentlemen. 

"Westminster  Abbey?    Yes,   I've  seen  that, 

too,  although  I  don't  recall 
The  fellow's  name  who  built  the  thing — still, 

that's  a  trifle,  after  all; 


88 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

It's  very  old,  I  know  that  much,  and  there 
are  graves  beneath  the  floor — 

They  wouldn't  let  me  whittle,  but  I  stuck  my 
card  behind  the  door. 

"St.  Peter's  beats  our  city  hall — at  least  it 
does  for  looks — and,  say. 

The  soldiers  there  appear  to  think  you've  come 
to  drag  the  thing  away ! 

They  wouldn't  let  me  write  or  cut  my  name 
on  anything — but  wait — 

I  fooled  'em !  When  I  left  I  dropped  my  letter 
head  beside  the  gate. 

"I've  seen  the  sphynx  and  pyramids — rode  on 

a  camel  through  the  sand — 
And,  though  they're  not  as  good  as  new,  there's 

no  denying  that  they're  grand ; 
I  don't  remember  what  it  cost  to  build  them  or 

how  long  it  took, 
But  on  a  block  of  stone  out  there  you'll  find 

my  trade-mark,  if  you  look. 

"I  don't  remember  Athens — still,  it  seems  to 
me  we  did  run  down — 


89 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Ah,  yes,  they  have  a  temple  there,  up  on  a 

hill  just  back  of  town ; 
It's  queer  it  should  have  slipped  my  mind;  I 

now  recall  it  very  well ; 
I  cut  my  name  there  on  a  slab  and  scratched 

the  brand  of  soap  I  sell." 


GIVING  AND  TAKING 

LIFE'S  a  game  of  give  and  take, 

And  the  world  would  be  sublime, 
And  few  hearts  would  ever  ache. 
And  few  saddened  ones  would  sigh. 
If  the  strong  would  cease  to  try 
To  be  taking  all  the  time. 


90 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE     HUMORIST 

A  KING  and  his  clown  fell  ill  one  day, 

And  the  king,  as  he  lay  on  his  royal  bed. 
Beholding  the  clown,  was  moved  to  say : 

"Lo,  all  my  glory  has  from  me  fled. 
One  man  wears  motley,  and  one  a  crown. 

We  raise  distinctions  and  cling  to  caste. 
But  the  hand  of  the  Master  strikes  us  down, 

And  the  king  and  his  clown  are  the  same  at 
last." 

The  poor,  pale  clown  turned  wearily 

And  looked  across  where  the  monarch  lay ; 
"Nay,  master,  it  is  not  so,"  said  he. 

"Though  we  share  one  lot  in  common  to-day 
I  must  have  my  wits  when  I  rise  again, 

Or  another  clown  to  your  feet  they'll  bring. 
But  you,  O  sire,  though  you  retain 

No  spark  of  reason,  will  still  be  king." 


91 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 


FABLE  OF  THE  SQUIRREL 
AND  THE  RABBIT 

SAID  the  squirrel  to  the  rabbit:    "You  can't 

climb  up  a  tree," 
And  the  rabbit  shook  his  head  and  said  he 

couldn't; 
Said  the  squirrel  to  the  rabbit:    "Go  ahead, 

and  try  and  see," 
But  the  rabbit  shook  his  head  and  said  he 

wouldn't; 

Said  the  squirrel  to  the  rabbit:     "I  can  bur 
row,  same  as  you ; 
I  can  do  the  things  that  you  do,  and  besides 

them  I  can  do 
Far  greater  things  than  you  can,  I  can  prove 

it  to  you,  too!" 
Said  the  rabbit:    "There's  no  reason  why 

you  shouldn't." 

Said  the  squirrel  to  the  rabbit:    "I'm  much 

brighter  than  you  are" — 
The  rabbit  saw  a  hunter  who  was  gunning — 
Said  the  squirrel:     "I  surpass  you  in  a  dozen 

ways,  by  far" — 


92 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

The  rabbit  saw  a  setter  coming  running ! 
Said   the   squirrel:     "I    am   fashioned    in    a 

fairer,  finer  way" — 
Then  the  dog  swooped  down  upon  him  with 

a  terrifying  bay, 
And   the   rabbit,    while   escaping,    said:    "I 

haven't  much  to  say — 
I'm  so  clumsy! — He  was  clever,   and  so 
cunning!" 


93 


THE      LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 

HER    NAME 

A  YEAR  ago  you  smiled  on  me 

And  filled  the  world  with  glory; 
But  our  romance  was  not  to  be 

A  long-continued  story ! 
A  little  year  ago  you  heard 

My  praise  and  deemed  it  pleasant ; 
By  whose  look  is  your  bosom  stirred 
At  present? 

A  year  ago  I  soared  aloft. 

On  airy  pinions  lifted. 
When  you  in  accents  sweet  and  soft 

Declared  that  I  was  gifted ! 
Ah,  who  now  gladly  bears  the  blame 

Of  all  your  little  quarrels 
And  hears  you  vow  that  he  may  claim 
Fame's  laurels? 

A  year  ago  I  thought  the  best 

Of  all  sweet  names  was  Kitty; 
But  do  not  let  your  gentle  breast, 

I  pray,  be  rent  with  pity! 
I've  just  discovered  that — I  swear 

This  is  not  said  in  malice — 
The  sweetest  name  a  girl  may  bear 
Is  Alice. 

94 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


SUNDAY     IN     THE     LITTLE 
OLD     TOWN 

AL  Mead  and  Mary  Jones  drive  by, 

He  sits  up  straight  and  prim, 
And  now  and  then  she  casts  a  shy. 

Half  eager  glance  at  him ; 
The  bay  mare  briskly  trots  along. 

Out  past  the  edge  of  town, 
And  from  the  trees  sweet  bits  of  song 

Come  trickling  gently  down. 

The  church  bell  breaks  the  silence  with 

Its  oft-heard  clang  of  hope. 
And  we  may  know  that  Deacon  Smith 

Is  pulling  at  the  rope; 
Across  the  fields  a  lowing  cow 

Sends  forth  a  sad  appeal, 
vVhile  certain  ovens,  even  now. 

Are  primed  with  roasts  of  veal. 

A  kitten  paws  a  ball  of  yarn 

In  front  of  Elmer  Carr's, 
While  six  bad  boys  in  Benson's  barn 

Are  smoking  poor  cigars. 


95 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

A  peacock  in  the  distance  calls. 

And  every  now  and  then 
A  cackle  indicates  that  all's 

Well  with  some  worthy  hen. 

The  breeze  is  mild,  the  day  is  fair. 

The  toilers  rest  a  while : 
Aunt  Hester,  sleeping  in  her  chair. 

Forgets  that  man  is  vile ; 
Sweet  peace  lies  over  all  the  scene. 

Save  where  Montgomery  Hicks 
And  Uncle  Obadiah  Greene 

Are  talking  politics. 

The  shadows  lengthen  to  the  East, 

The  light  begins  to  wane ; 
Ere  long,  alas,  for  man  and  beast, 

The  wheels  will  turn  again ! 
Al  Mead  and  Mary  Jones  return 

Along  the  quiet  street; 
They  view  the  scene  without  concern 

And  need  but  half  the  seat. 


96 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

THE    WIND    BLEW    ILL 

'TWAS  at  a  crossing  that  we  met, 
Her  eyes  like  priceless  jewels  glowed; 

In  fancy  I  can  see  her  yet. 
Half  hesitating  in  the  road. 

A  surly  teamster  drove  ahead. 
Unmindful  of  her  presence  there; 

"Stop!    Let  the  lady  pass,"  I  said; 
He  merely  sneered  and  did  not  care. 

The  maiden  with  a  little  cry 
Rushed  forward  as  I  raised  my  arm 

And  caught  a  rein,  prepared  to  die 
In  bravely  shielding  her  from  harm. 

She  passed  in  safety ;  I  had  played 

A  dauntless  hero's  noble  part ; 
I  turned  to  hear  the  lovely  maid 

Return  her  thanks  with  all  her  heart. 

She  smiled,  and,  oh,  her  smile  was  sweet ! 

Just  then — ah,  mad  March  wind ! — my  hat 
Was  wildly  blown  down  through  the  street; 

I  never  saw  her  after  that. 


97 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

THE    LAUGHALOT     BOY 

THE  Laughalot  Boy  is  a  glad  little  lad 

Who  lives  in  a  glad  little  place 
Where  all  the  good  people  who  meet  him  are 
glad 

For  just  looking  into  his  face, 
And  the  birds  that  sing  there  from  the  dawn 

till  the  night 
Warble  only  such  songs  as  give  people  delight 

And  as  add  to  the  joy 

Of  the  Laughalot  Boy, 
Who  knows  where  the  nests  are,  but  never 

Is  tempted  to  rob  or  destroy. 

Oh,  the  Laughalot  Boy  always  runs  to  obey. 

And  he  never  is  rude  or  unkind. 
And  only  good  people  go  smiling  his  way. 

And  hate  never  darkens  his  mind. 
The  Laughalot  Boy  is  a  glad  little  lad 
Who  has  many  more  joys  than  the  boys  who 
are  bad ; 

All  the  winds  seem  to  go 

As  he  wants  them  to  blow; 
He  finds  the  world  pleasant,  and  gladly 

Helps  those  who  are  making  it  so. 


98 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


LITTLE    ALBERT'S     PA'S    PA 

MY  pa  is  always   tellin'  me  when    I    want 

things  to  wear 
Or  play  with  or  to  eat,  that  he  had  no  such 

things  back  there 
When  he  was  only  eight  or  nine  and  had  to 

do  the  chores 
And  always  pitch  in,  rain  or  shine,  to  help 

around  out  doors. 

He's  always  tellin'  me  about  the  work  that 
•  he  could  do 

And  how  his  pa  would  send  him  out  to  get 
half  frozen  through, 

A-milkin'  cows  or  pitchin'  hay  down  for  the 
calves  and  sheep, 

With  school  about  two  miles  away  and  snow 
drifts  always  deep. 

And  gee,  the  lickin's  that  he  got  if  he  would 

play  or  shirk ! 
My  pa's  pa  hardly  ever  thought  of  anything 

but  work ; 


99 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Pa  never  had  a  single  toy  or  got  took  any 
where 

And  he  was  tickled,  as  a  boy,  with  anything 
to  wear. 

The  funny  thing  about  it,  though,  is  that  it 

seems,  somehow, 
To  make  him  kind  of  proud,  and  so  he  brags 

about  it  now — 
If  pa  was  such  a  mean  old  rat  I'd  feel  so  cheap 

and  small 
I'd  not  let  on  to  my  boy  that  I'd  had  a  pa 

at  all. 


100 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

ORIGIN    OF    THE    GNU 

LITTLE  Freddie  Fothergill  was  taken  to  the 

zoo. 
Where,  with  wonder  on  his  visage,  he  beheld 

a  captive  gnu ; 
Long  he  viewed  it  fore  and  aft,  he  viewed  it 

from  each  side; 
But  the  gnu  paid  no  attention  and  displayed 

no  foolish  pride. 

While  the  animal  stood  rubbing  its  left  ear 

against  the  fence 
Freddie  gazing  at  it,  wondered  if  the  gnu  had 

good  horse  sense; 
But,  considering  its  make-up,  he  was  more 

than  half  inclined 
To  regard  the  gnu  as  stupid;  it  was  merely 

horse  behind. 

"Father,  dear,"  said  little  Freddie,  as  they 

wandered  through  the  zoo, 
"This  must  be  the  way  they  got  it" — he  was 

thinking  of  the  gnu — 
"Once  a  bossy  found  a  mare's  nest  all  deserted 

by  the  mare. 
So  I  guess  she  went  to  setting  till  she  hatched 

the  gnu  out  there." 

101 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

IF    WILLIE    WERE    A    KING 

I  WISH  I'd  be  a  king  awhile;  I  bet  you  then 

they'd  be 
A  lot  of  things  made  different  that  don't  seem 

right  to  me; 
I'd  fix  it  so  a  boy  could  play  till  ten  o'clock 

at  night 
And  never  have  to  go  to  bed  alone  without  a 

light. 
And  ma  would  have  more  hats  than  she  could 

count,  or  pretty  near. 
And  about  sixteen  dressmakers  for  her  own  use 

by  the  year. 

And  there's  a  boy  in  Sunday  school  who  has 
a  pa  that's  bad 

And  drinks  and  gets  in  jail  and  makes  his 
mother  very  sad ; 

If  I  were  king  I'd  send  such  pa's  a  thousand 
miles  away 

Where  they  would  have  to  work  and  let  their 
wives  get  all  their  pay. 

And  people  that  made  fun  of  boys  for  bein' 
poor,  I  guess 

I'd  punish  by  arrangin*  it  so  they'd  be  penni 
less. 

102 


T  HE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

They'd  be  a  lot  of  changes  all  around,  if  I 

was  king ; 
I'd  fix  it  so  the  girls  and  boys  could  start  out 

in  the  spring 
And  find  the  places  where  the  birds  sing  all 

their  sweetest  songs 
And  where  the  colts  kick  up  their  heels  and 

happiness  belongs; 
I'd  let  them  play  along  the  brooks  and  fill 

them  full  of  dams 
And  have  the  right  to  spread  their  bread  with 

jellies  and  with  jams. 

I  wish  that  I  could  be  a  king;  there's  lots  I'd 

.  like  to  do; 
Aunt  Lizzie's  teeth  don't  fit — she'd  get  a  set 

that  would  be  new ; 
I'd  fix  it  so  a  boy  could  go  wherever  he  would 

please 
And  not  get  whipped  because  he  tore  his 

trousers  climbin'  trees, 
But,  oh,  the  best  of  all  the  things  I  'd  do  would 

be  to  let 
Boys  always  eat  their  pie  before  the  other 

things  were  et. 


103 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE     CARE 

THE  REUNION    OF  THE  TOYS 

A  LITTLE  toy  bug  and  a  little  toy  mouse 

And  a  little  toy  tiger  had  met 
On  the  little  toy  porch  of  a  little  toy  house. 

Where  a  little  toy  table  was  set, 
And  the  little  toy  bug  gave  a  sad  little  squeak, 

And  the  little  mouse  wailed:    "Oh,  my!" 
And  the  little  toy  tiger  attempted  to  speak. 

But  paused  with  a  sad  little  sigh. 

A  little  toy  soldier  set  down  a  toy  cup 

And  indulged  in  a  pitiful  wail, 
And  sadness  came  over  a  little  toy  pup 

With  a  poor  little  stump  of  a  tail ; 
And  a  little  toy  engine  that  ran  on  a  track 

Gave  a  sad  little  toot  as  it  sped, 
And   a   little   bisque   doll   said:     "Alas   and 
alack ! 

I  really  wish  I  were  dead." 

Then  a  brisk  little  jack  popped  out  in  the  air 
From  a  box  he  had  opened  somehow. 

And  he  said  to  the  toys:    "This  is  strange,  I 

declare — 
Why  are  all  of  you  blubbering  now?" 


104 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


The  little  bisque  doll  put  a  little  bisque  hand 
On  her  breast  as  she  said  in  despair : 

"I  am  lonely  and  far  from  my  dear  native  land ; 
Ah,  why  did  they  bring  me  from  there?" 

And   the  soldier  said:     "That's   what's   the 
matter  with  me; 

I  am  lonely  and  homesick  today. 
For  the  ones  that  I  love  are  far  over  the  sea — 

Oh,  why  did  they  bring  me  away!" 
And  the  little  toy  mouse  and  the  little  toy  cup 

And  the  little  toy  table  and  plate 
And  the  "little  toy  tiger  and  little  toy  pup 

Had  the  same  sorry  tale  to  relate. 

Then  the  Jack-in-the-Box  dashed  a  tear  from 
his  eye 

And  said  in  a  sorrowful  tone : 
"I,  too,  am  a  stranger  beneath  a  strange  sky, 

Far,  far,  from  the  haunts  I  have  known ! 
They  made  me  in  Germany,  thousands  of  miles 

O'er  the  sea,  as  you  probably  know." 
His  words  caused  the  toys  to  regard  him  with 
smiles. 

Each  having  forgotten  its  woes. 

105 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

"Made  over  in  Germany?"  shouted  the  doll; 

"I,  too,  was  made  there!"  and  the  bug 
And  the  soldier  and  tiger  and  puppy  and  all 

Rushed  forward  to  give  her  a  hug. 
"They  made  me  in  Germany,"  each  of  them 

cried ; 
"Wie  gehts?"  squeaked  the  mouse  to  the 

Jack; 
"Danke  shoen,"   in  a  glad   little  voice,   he 

replied — 
The  engine  leaped  clear  from  its  track. 

Then  the  little   toy   bug   and   the   little   toy 

mouse 

And  the  soldier  and  doll  and  the  rest 
Formed  a  ring  on  the  porch  of  the  little  toy 

house. 

And  joy  was  in  each  little  breast. 
And  they  sang:     "Made  in  Germany,   over 

the  sea!" 

And  they  danced  all  around  with  delight, 
And  a  little  boy  woke  and  sat  up  and  said  he: 
"Why,  they're  just  as  I  left  them  last  night!" 


106 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

LET'S    PRETEND 

LET'S  pretend  a  little  while 
That  the  world  is  managed  right. 

That  there's  little  which  is  vile. 
That  there's  much  to  give  delight. 

Let  us  hopefully  pretend 

That  the  luck  we  have  is  fair; 

Let  us  put  a  sudden  end 
To  the  murmurs  of  despair. 

Let's  pretend  just  for  today 

That  our  hearts  are  free  from  woe ; 

That  the  wind  blows  just  the  way 
We  would  like  to  have  it  blow. 

Let's  pretend  that  what  we  do 
Is  the  work  we  like  the  best; 

Let's  pretend  the  scene  we  view 
Is  of  all  the  loveliest. 

Let's  pretend  we're  satisfied; 

Let's  pretend  we're  brave  and  strong ; 
Maybe  after  we  have  tried 

We  can  do  it  right  along. 

107 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE     CARE 


HER     PART 

HER  little  hands  are,  oh,  so  weak. 

Her  little  feet  so  useless  yet; 
She  has  not  even  learned  to  speak. 

Nor  to  remember  or  forget, 
But  she  has  caused  the  clouds  that  hung 

Above  the  hills  to  disappear ; 
Because  of  her  old  hearts  beat  young 

And  all  the  joys  are  centered  here. 

Her  little  arms  are,  oh,  so  frail, 

Her  little  heart  so  free  from  guile ; 
But  earth  would  be  a  dismal  vale 

If  she  forsook  it  for  a  while! 
She  has  not  learned  to  praise  or  blame, 

Nor  to  remember  or  forgive. 
But  heaven  is  nearer  since  she  came, 

And  she  has  made  it  sweet  to  live. 


108 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 
POOR   FOOL 

WITHIN  a  shadow  that  was  cool 

Beside  a  roadway  sat  a  fool ; 
A  sparkling  stream  that  tinkled  near 
Made  pleasing  music  for  the  ear, 

And  caused  him  to  forget  to  care 
How  others  passed  with  smirk  or  sneer. 

His  king  in  raiment  that  was  fair 
Came  riding  with  his  courtiers  there : 
"Sir  Fool,"  the  monarch  paused  to  say, 
"I  feel  the  need  of  cheer  today; 
Proceed  with  some  new  antic  now 
To  charm  my  heavy  cares  away." 

The  poor  fool  stroked  his  wrinkled  brow 
And  rose  and  made  a  stately  bow, 
Then  answered:    "See,  the  day  is  bright, 
And  listen!    Do  you  hear  the  light. 
Sweet  laughter  of  yon  sparkling  rill? 
It  sings  to  me  that  all  is  right." 

The  king  rode  on  across  the  hill, 
A  frown  was  on  his  visage  still ; 

"Poor  fool !"  he  said :  "bereft  of  wit, 
He  finds  it  good  to  calmly  sit 
And  listen  to  a  stream  and  dream 

Of  music  in  the  splash  of  it!" 

109 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    GRAND    ARMY 

IN  the  morning  the  Grand  Army  marches  out 
to  fight  for  bread, 

There  is  many  a  wounded  soldier,  many  a 
bruised  and  bleeding  head, 

There  is  many,  many  a  marcher  who  would 
gladly  run  away 

To  be  free  henceforth  from  going,  weak  and 

weary,  to  the  fray; 
There  are  few  that  ever  hear 
The  sweet  accent  of  a  cheer. 

There  are  many  that  lie  pulseless,  at  the  clos 
ing  of  the  day. 

No  flags  are  waved  above  it  as  the  Army 

marches  past, 
There  is  no  clank  of  sabers  and  no  bugle's 

urgent  blast; 
The  soldiers  wear  no  trappings  made  to  dazzle 

and  to  thrill. 
And  they  hear  no  shout  of  "Bravo!"  for  their 

courage  or  their  skill ; 
As  the  great  Grand  Army  comes 
There  is  no  loud  roll  of  drums. 


110 


T  H  E      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

No  applauding,  since  the  soldiers  do  not  march 
away  to  kill. 

In  the  morning  the  Grand  Army,   with  its 

boy  recruits  in  line, 
Marches  bravely  out  to  duty  in  the  field  and 

mill  and  mine. 
Goes  to  give  its  country  glory,  goes  to  make 

it  great  and  strong, 
Goes  to  build  the  walls  and  bridges,  goes  to 

labor  hard  and  long ; 
Through  the  snow  and  through  the  rain, 
Torn  with  woe  and  racked  with  pain. 
Forth  the  soldiers  march  to  battle,  hopeless 

or  "with  hope  and  song. 

In   the  morning   the   Grand   Army   bravely 

marches  forth  to  fight 
For  the  love  of  little  children,  for  the  sake  of 

doing  right, 
For  the  bridges  and  the  passes  so  that  Progress 

may  push  on. 
And  there's  many  a  wounded  soldier,  many 

a  weary  one  and  wan, 
Whom  a  cheer  would  strengthen  so  : 
Why  not  cheer  them  as  they  go, 
Though  they  merely  march  to  labor  and  have 
no  fine  weapons  drawn? 
Ill 


THE      LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 


AMBITION 

AT  first  we  dream  of  splendid  things 

That  we  shall  do  some  day 
To  win  the  world's  regard,  and  claim 
The  glory  men  receive  with  fame — 

But  those  dreams  pass  away. 

We  look  on  their  dear  faces  whom 

The  Lord  gives  to  our  care, 
And  plan  to  do  great  things,  that  they 
May  have  the  world's  respect  some  day. 

Proud  of  the  names  they  bear. 

At  last,  dull-eyed,  with  sunken  lips. 

We  sit  and  dream  away 
Of  fame  for  them  that  in  our  laps 
Were  dandled,  and  which  may,  perhaps, 

Reflect  on  us  some  day. 


112 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE     PICTURE 

A  MAN  with  bony  hands  worked  day  by  day 
To  put  the  rough-hewn  sills  in  place,  and  lay 
The  beams  across  and  build  the  walls;  he  made 
The  narrow  stairs,  he  raised  the  roof  and  laid 
The  oaken  floors ;  the  vines  he  trained 
To  wind  above  the  doors.     He  felled  the  trees 
That  stood  about,  and  through  much  toiling 

gained 

The  little  that  comes  unto  him  who  frees 
The  soil  of  its  first  growth,  and  through 
The  years  he  saw  age  warp  the  walls.    He 

grew 

Old  with  the  rotting  sills;  where  long  ago 
The  forest  stood  he  saw  sweet  blossoms  blow 
On  trees  the  willful  wind  had  set  aslant. 
And  memories  of  her  who  saw  him  plant 
Them  there  in  rows  came  back,  and  in  his  eyes 
A  moisture  gathered  as  he  looked  away 
Across  the  fields  and  saw  the  white  stones  rise 
Upon  the  distant  hillside. 

Old  and  gray, 
He  stood  before  the  door,   where  she  had 

passed, 


113 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Where  once  the  shadows  of  loved  forms  were 

cast — 
He  stood  and  sighed  and  watched  the  blossoms 

fall, 
And  from  the  road  an  artist  marked  the 

scene. 

Beheld  the  vines  that  hid  the  ancient  wall, 
Gazed  up  along  the  path  that  wound  between 
The  rows  of  flowers  such  as  long  since  had 

made 
The  dull  days  bright  for  her  whose  hands 

were  laid 
Upon  her  breast  long,  long  ago. — The  artist 

saw 

And  drew  the  scene,  and  people  praised 
His  splendid  picture.    But  he  did  not  draw 
That  which  was  in  the  soul  of  him  who  gazed 
Across  the  fields — who  with  a  heavy  heart 
And  all  unthanked,  gave  what  he  had  to  art. 


114 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


NOTHING    TO    BEAT     IT 

Music  hath  charms   to   soothe   the   savage 
breast. 

So  has  money ; 
A  word  of  cheer  may  comfort  the  distressed, 

So  may  money ; 
The  silent  grave  brings  peace  to  those  who 

sigh, 
Hope  lends  glad  brightness  to  the  tear-dimmed 

eye. 

Faith  moves  the  mountain  whose  crest  cleaves 
the  sky, 

So  does  money. 

Wisdom  is  an  overmatch  for  strength, 

So  is  money; 
Fair  efforts  win  the  world's  regard  at  length. 

So  does  money ; 

Love  spreads  a  charm  upon  the  homely  face, 
Chance  raises  fools  to  power  and  to  place. 
The  tomb,  at  last,  obliterates  disgrace — 

So  does  money. 


115 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE      CARE 
HEROES 

THE  heroes  do  not  always  die 

Where  death  in  fearful  guise  appears; 
In  countless  unmarked  graves  they  lie. 

Denied  the  sweet  reward  of  tears ; 
In  countless  nooks  they  bravely  strive 

Without  complaint,  day  after  day. 
That  faith  and  courage  may  survive 

And  hopelessness  be  kept  away. 

The  heroes  do  not  always  fall 

Where  flags  are  waved  and  swords  are 

drawn; 
By  thousands  they  obey  the  call 

That  duty  sends  at  every  dawn ; 
Denied  applause,  their  work  unknown. 

They  lift  the  weak  and  cheer  the  sad. 
Forgetting  sorrows  of  their  own 

While  teaching  others  to  be  glad. 

The  heroes  do  not  always  give 

Their  lives  where  horror's  front  is  raised; 
Denied  heroic  deaths  they  live 

Without  renown  and  never  praised; 
In  countless  nooks  and  corners  where 

They  never  may  be  found  by  fame 
They  earn  the  wreaths  they  may  not  wear 

And  tributes  they  shall  never  claim. 
116 


THE     LAND     OF     LITTLE     CARE 


HER    DAY 

I. 

SHE  worried  over  little  woes 

From  which  he  laughing  turned ; 
She  smarted  'neath  the  little  blows 

Which  left  him  unconcerned ; 
She  borrowed  little  troubles  when 

She  had  none  of  her  own ; 
He  smiled,  as  is  the  way  with  men. 

And  let  her  fret  alone. 

ii. 

A  sorrow  that  was  real  and  great 

On  them  was  laid  one  day; 
Bewailing  his  heart-breaking  fate 

He  flung  his  hopes  away. 
But  in  that  dreary  hour  she  went. 

While  still  her  eyes  were  wet. 
And  led  him  forth,  infirm  and  bent, 

To  help  him  to  forget. 


117 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


WOMAN 

IF  by  some  strange  mishap 

She  fell 
Out  of  her  mother's  lap, 

To  dwell 

Alone  upon  some  pleasant  isle,  ere  yet 
Her  gaze  had  ever  met 

The  look  of  any  man — before 
Her  ears  had  ever  heard 
The  sound  of  any  word — 
If  Fate  or  Fortune  bore 
Her,  in  her  infancy,  away. 
And  God,  from  day  to  day. 
Sent  succor  to  her,  spread 
Protecting  shades  above  her  head — 

If  she  dwelt  all  alone. 

Where  winds  were  sweet  and  skies  were  fair- 
Saw  no  face  but  her  own 
Enchanting  face  reflected  where 
She  knelt  to  quaff  the  stream 
While  babyhood  and  childhood  passed — 

If  ne'er 
In  waking  hour  or  dream 


118 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

The  shadow  of  another's  form  were  cast 

Before  her  till,  at  last, 
Possessed  of  woman's  charms. 
She  turned  all  suddenly 

To  see 

A  man  with  outstretched  arms, 
She  would,  with  many  a  wile, 
Evade  his  fond  embrace 

And  flee 
With  cruel  taunts  before  him  while 

He  sped  in  eager  chase — 
With  Love  entreating  in  her  heart. 
Still  she  would  smile 
To  see  him  play  a  foolish  part, 
Would  torture  him  with  all  a  woman's  art. 
And  then,  perceiving  that  he  turned, 
Rush  back  to  claim  all  she  had  spurned, 

And  rest 
In  sweet  contentment  on  his  breast. 


119 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 
I       WILL 

I  WILL  start  anew  this  morning  with  a  higher, 
fairer  creed ; 

I  will  cease  to  stand  complaining  of  my  ruth 
less  neighbor's  greed ; 

I  will  cease  to  sit  repining  while  my  duty's 
call  is  clear, 

I  will  waste  no  moment  whining  and  my  heart 
shall  know  no  fear. 

I  will  look  sometimes  about  me  for  the  things 

that  merit  praise; 
I  will  search  for  hidden  beauties  that  elude 

the  grumbler's  gaze; 
I  will  try  to  find  contentment  in  the  paths 

that  I  must  tread, 
I  will  cease  to  have  resentment  when  another 

moves  ahead. 

I  will  not  be  swayed  by  envy  when  my  rival's 

strength  is  shown ; 
I  will  not  deny  his  merit,  but  I'll  strive  to  prove 

my  own ; 
I  will  try  to  see  the  beauty  spread  before  me, 

rain  or  shine — 
I  will  cease  to  preach  your  duty  and  be  more 

concerned  with  mine. 

120 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 


THE  VOICES  OF  THE 
CHILDREN 

I  FIND  no  rest  upon  the  wide,  blue  sea, 
For  little  children  ever  call  to  me — 
The  little  ones  I  might  have  helped  to  save. 
The  starving  ones  to  whom  I  never  gave. 

I  find  no  rest  when  I  lie  down  to  sleep. 
For  ever  I  can  hear  the  children  weep — 
The  little  ones  who  served  me  in  their  need, 
The  children  whom  I  stunted  in  my  greed. 

I  find  no  rest  upon  my  rich  domain. 
For  always  I  keep  hearing  them  complain — 
The  children  left  to  sicken  and  despair 
Because  I  selfishly  refused  to  care. 


121 


THE     LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 


THE    DISTANT    CARES 

HAPPY  little  boy,  playing  all  day  long. 

There  are  troubles  waiting  patiently  for  you ! 
Gleeful  little  minstrel,  sing  your  merry  song 

While  the  winds  are  balmy  and  the  sky  is 

blue! 
Shame  on  him,  oh,  rosy,  laughing  little  boy, 

Who  sits  down  to  tell  you  in  a  dismal  tone 
That  the  world  has  troubles,  that  not  all  is  joy. 

And  that  gladness  cannot  always  be  your 
own. 

Happy  little  maid,  singing  all  the  day. 

Many  aches  are  waiting  to  assail  your  heart ; 
You  will  some  day  wonder,  sitting  in  dismay. 
Why  the  fates  have  cast  you  for  your  bitter 

part. 
Shame  on  them,   oh,   lovely,   laughing  little 

maid, 
Who  attempt  to  rob  you  of  your  present 

glee; 

Play  away  untroubled,  laugh  on  unafraid 
Through  the  careless  childhood  God  has 
given  thee. 


122 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

When  my  heart  is  glad,  let  my  joy  remain! 

If  you  know  that  trouble  waits  to  cloud  my 

brow, 
If  you  know  to-morrow  is  to  bring  me  pain, 

Do  not  come  to  rudely  tell  me  of  it  now. 
If  my  hopes  are  futile,  seek  me  not  in  haste 

To  impart  the  sorrow  I  will  have  to  bear ; 
Oh,  the  precious,  priceless  moments  that  we 
waste 

Looking  sadly  forward  to  a  distant  care ! 


123 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    LITTLE    HELPER 

SOMETIMES,  when  you,  dear  little  one. 

Have  closed  your  eyes  and  gone  to  sleep. 
When  all  my  daily  tasks  are  done. 

Beside  your  little  bed  I  creep, 
To  watch  you  smiling  while  you  dream, 

All  pure  at  heart,  from  trouble  free. 
And,  though  you  do  not  know  or  guess, 
You  make  me  long  for  worthiness. 

And  lure  my  lost  hopes  back  to  me. 

Sometimes,  when  all  my  efforts  seem 

To  be  of  no  avail,  and  when 
My  wish  to  claim  the  world's  esteem 

And  be  the  peer  of  worthy  men 
Has  seemed  a  futile  wish,  I  bend 

Beside  you  where  you  sleeping  lie. 
And,  as  I  watch,  my  hopes  return. 
And  through  your  trust  in  me  I  learn 

To  keep  ideals  that  are  high. 


124 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Sometimes,  when  night's  deep  shades  descend 

And  raindrops  beat  against  the  pane. 
When  'neath  the  storm  the  branches  bend 

And  all  the  dripping  boughs  complain, 
I  watch  you  where  you  sweetly  sleep. 

Your  trust  in  me  serene,  secure. 
And,  though  you  do  not  know,  you  sweep 
My  doubts  away  and  let  me  keep 

My  faith  unsoiled,  my  purpose  pure. 


125 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

A    PROTEST    BY    THE 
AUDIENCE 

I  WISH  that  I  was  bigger,  so  when  I  went  out 

to  play 
The  boys  that's  older  wouldn't  want  to  order 

me  away. 
And  then  they  wouldn't  always  make  me  sit 

up  on  the  fence,  [audience. 

When  they  are  playin'   circus,    and   be  the 

I'd  like  to  get  down  in  the  ring  and  play  I  was 

the  clown, 
Or  be  the  bare-back  rider  who  goes  jumpin' 

up  and  down. 
Or  else  the  tall  ring-master — wouldn't  that  be 

just  immense?  [audience. 

But  every  time  I  have  to  play  that  I'm  the 

Sometime,  when  I  get  older,  I  intend  to  have 

a  ring 
And  be  the  bare-back  rider  and   clown  and 

everything, 
And  then  the  littler  boys  than  me  will  sit  up 

on  the  fence  [the  audience. 

And  clap  their  hands  when  I  perform — and  be 


126 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 


THE  TROUBLES  WE  NEVER 
HAVE 

THE  youth  that  lies  so  far  away 

That  seemed  to  end  so  long  ago, 
Might  still  be  sweetly  claimed  to-day 

By  many  a  man  whose  step  is  slow 
If,  somehow,  he  might  borrow  back 

The  days  his  foolish  fears  made  sad, 
The  days  through  which  he  sighed,  "Alack!" 

O'er  troubles  that  he  never  had. 

As  careless,  prodigals  we  waste 

The  years   through  which   youth   blithely 

"  skips. 
And  many  a  bitter  dose  we  taste 

That  never  comes  to  touch  our  lips. 
Before  our  time  we  droop  and  die 

And  leave  the  scenes  that  were  so  sad, 
Despoiled  and  fooled  and  broken  by 

The  troubles  we  have  never  had. 


127 


THE      LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 


WHERE    THE    PULSE    OF 
HOPE    IS    QUICK 

YONDER  there  are  roads  that  wind 

Leisurely  by  dale  and  hill. 
Where  there  is  no  ceaseless  grind 

And  the  world  is  strangely  still ; 
There  no  warning  shouts  are  heard 

And  no  fretful  people  clash ; 
There  ambition  is  not  stirred 

Merely  by  the  love  of  cash. 

Yonder  there  are  pastures  wide 

Over  which  sweet  scents  are  blown. 
Where  no  children  are  denied 

Freedom  that  should  be  their  own ; 
Yonder  there  are  winding  brooks 

Flowing  gladly  to  the  sea; 
Yonder  there  are  restful  nooks 

Calling  eagerly  to  me. 

There  the  ways  are  wide  and  clear. 
And  the  days  are  full  of  peace ; 

Here  the  price  of  joy  is  dear 
And  the  battles  never  cease; 

128 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Here  the  masters  who  should  praise 
Grasp  their  profits  and  are  dumb ; 

Yonder  there  are  winding  ways 
That  are  ever  calling  "Come." 

Ah,  let  him  whose  blood  is  cold 

And  whose  youthful  hopes  are  dead 
Sit  out  yonder,  weak  and  old, 

With  a  hood  upon  his  head  : 
Let  him  mumble  of  the  days 

When  the  marks  he  set  were  high ; 
Let  him  seek  the  quiet  ways — 

They  are  not  for  such  as  I . 

Here,  where  eager  thousands  strive, 

Where  the  battle  smoke  is  thick, 
Where  the  city  is  alive 

And  the  pulse  of  Hope  is  quick — 
Here  where  each  exacting  hour 

Brings  new  chances  to -the  strong — 
Let  me  serve  with  all  my  power, 

Though  unnoticed  in  the  throng. 

Here,  where  mighty  things  are  wrought, 

Here  where  battles  for  the  truth 
Day  by  day  are  being  fought, 

129 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

Is  the  place  for  strength  and  youth ! 
Let  the  old  men  sit  out  there. 

Mumbling  of  forgotten  things: 
Here  each  day  yields  me  a  share 

Of  the  chances  that  it  brings. 


AS  THEY  PASS 

HE  is  bent  and  she  is  gray. 
Youth  forsook  them  long  ago ; 

She  has  helped  him  on  the  way, 
He  is  proud  to  tell  her  so. 

Oft  he  looks  at  her  and  dreams 
That  she  still  is  young  and  fair; 

In  her  fancy  still  he  seems 
Young  and  strong  and  debonair. 

They  are  trudging  down  the  hill. 
Old  and  bent  and  gray,  alas ! 

But  they  love  each  other  still — 
Blessings  on  them  as  they  pass. 

130 


THE   LAND   OF   LITTLE   CARE 


THE 


EVERYTHING  in  the  world's  dead  wrong, 

The  sun  doesn't  shine  as  it  ought  to  shine; 
Only  the  fool  sings  a  hopeful  song. 

There  is  not  a  sign  that's  a  hopeful  sign; 
Oh,  a  dismal  chirp  is  the  chirp  I  hear 

From  the  bird  that  is  sitting  on  yonder  tree ; 
The  world  is  a  dismal  old  world  and  drear — 

It  pays  no  attention  to  ME. 

Everything  in  the  world  is  bad, 

There  is  nothing  splendid  and  nothing  fair; 
There  is  nothing  left  that  should  make  men 
glad. 

And  nothing  to  lift  them  above  despair; 
Only  the  foolish  keep  hoping  on 

And  the  glee  they  claim  is  a  bogus  glee ; 
All  that  was  worthy  of  praise  is  gone — 

111  luck  has  been  pestering  ME. 

Everything  in  the  world  is  gray — 

Gray  with  the  ashes  of  hopes  long  dead ; 

All  that  was  splendid  is  swept  away. 
No  rifts  appear  in  the  clouds  o'erhead; 


131 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

All  that  was  beautiful,  all  that  was  bright. 
All  that  was  good  for  a  man  to  see 

Is  sunk  in  the  depths  of  a  limitless  night — 
Nobody  is  cheering  for  ME. 


THE    NEWS    BEARER 

COME  not  in  haste  at  night  to  spoil  my  rest 
By  telling  me  my  best-laid  plan  has  failed; 

Come  not,  when  peace  and  gladness  fill  my 

breast, 
To  tell  me  that  my  honor  is  assailed. 

But  speed  upon  your  journey,  I  implore, 
When  you  may  bring  me  news  of  victory ! 

Arouse  me  from  my  dreams,  beat  on  the  door — 
Keep  not  an  instant  of  my  joy  from  me! 


132 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

AN   ANNIVERSARY 

I  GLANCE  across  the  gulf  of  years 

And  dimly  see  the  far-off  shore; 
How  placid  all  the  scene  appears, 

No  rocks  are  lashed,  no  billows  roar; 
Our  bark,  still  trim  and  stanch  today. 
Is  moored  within  a  peaceful  bay. 

Tis  spring  on  yonder  far-off  slopes. 

Though  it  is  early  autumn  here ; 
But  we  have  brought  along  our  hopes. 

And  o'er  our  heads  the  sky  is  clear; 
Though  oft  the  waves  have  mounted  high, 
Our  pennons,  still  unspotted,  fly. 

Our  .cruise  across  the  gulf  of  years 

Has  not  been  free  from  storm  and  stress ; 

Her  eyes  have  oft  been  dimmed  with  tears. 
We  oft  have  tasted  bitterness ; 

But,  oh,  the  days  that  were  so  glad— 

The  clear,  smooth  sailing  we  have  had ! 

Our  journey's  end  is  far  away. 

Much  we  have  braved  and  much  endured. 
But  safe  within  a  placid  bay 

Our  craft,  still  stanch  and  strong,  is  moored. 
And  love  shall  wind  our  anchor  chain 
When  we  tomorrow  sail  again. 

133 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THE    LESSON 

I  DID  not  know  the  sky  could  be 

So  very  soft,  so  very  blue; 
I  did  not  know  the  land  and  sea 

Could  spread  so  fair  before  my  view. 
Until  I  learned,  one  cloudless  day, 

To  banish  hatred  from  my  heart, 
To  put  my  foolish  doubts  away 

And  bid  my  envy  to  depart. 

I  did  not  know  how  richly  I 

With  priceless  gifts  had  been  endowed ; 
With  health  and  strength,  I  knew  not  why 

I  might  be  glad  and  brave  and  proud. 
Until  I  learned  to  cease  to  grieve 

Because  some  other  won  success. 
But  strove  the  harder  to  achieve 

The  fair  rewards  of  worthiness. 


134 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


ARE    YOU    GETTING 
ANYWHERE? 

You  are  rushing  after  riches,  with  a  grim  look 
on  your  face; 

You  are  spurred  by  one  ambition,  in  your 
breast  peace  has  no  place ; 

You  have  turned  away  from  others  whom 
you  clung  to,  long  ago. 

You  have  ceased  to  find  contentment  in  the 
nooks  you  used  to  know ; 

You  are  straining,  you  are  striving,  through 
the  dark  days  and  the  fair. 

But,  oh  restless,  eager  brother,  are  you  get 
ting  anywhere? 

In  your  haste  you  have  forgotten  how  to 

linger  or  to  smile 
When  a  child  looks  up  and  greets  you  or 

would  claim  your  care  awhile; 
Though  the  wild  rose  sheds  its  petals  in  the 

lonely  pasture  still. 
And  glad  breezes  sway  the  blossoms  in  the 

orchard  on  the  hill. 


135 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

You  are  too  much  in  a  hurry,  too  much 
occupied  to  care, 

But,  with  all  your  eager  efforts,  are  you  get 
ting  anywhere? 

You  have  turned  away  from  pleasure,  trouble 

haunts  you  in  your  dreams; 
It  is  long  since  you  have  lingered  on  the  shores 

of  shaded  streams 
That  go  singing  to  the  pebbles  they  have 

made  so  clean  and  white 
And  have  polished  at  their  leisure  and  their 

pleasure,  day  and  night; 
You  have  ceased  to  know  the  solace  that  is  in 

a  sweet,  old  air, 
But,  with  all  your  greedy  grasping,  are  you 

getting  anywhere? 

You  have  given  up  old  fancies;  you  have 

left  old  friends  behind; 
You  are  getting  rich  in  pocket,  but  you're 

poor  in  heart  and  mind; 
You  have  lost  the  sense  of  beauty  in  your 

haste  to  get  ahead. 
And  along  the  ways  you  travel  grief  and 

bitterness  are  spread; 


136 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

You  no  longer  care  how  others  bend  beneath 

the  woes  they  bear. 
But,  with  all  your  cruel  crowding,  are  you 

getting  anywhere? 

Out  beyond  you  there  is  darkness  that  no 

morning's  light  shall  break; 
In  the  distance  there  is  silence  that  no  song 

shall  ever  wake; 
At  the  journey's  end  dishonor  waits  for  them 

that  day  by  day 
Cheat   their   souls   and   starve   their   senses 

while  they  hurry  on  the  way; 
You  are 'passing  many  pleasures  that  you 

have  the  right  to  share. 
As  you  rush  to  fill  the  hollow  men  will  dig 

for  you  somewhere. 


137 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 

AT    THE    END    OF    THE     DAY 

MEN  hurry  past  him  in  the  street 

And  yield  him  no  regard  at  all ; 
Where  those  whose  pride  is  great  compete, 

He  has  a  place  obscure  and  small ; 
He  humbly  serves  as  best  he  may 

Where  giants  battle  for  success. 
But  at  the  end  of  every  day 

He  hurries  home  to  happiness. 

Where  traffic  roars  and  walls  are  high 

He  earns  the  pittance  he  receives. 
And  few  men  would  be  gladdened  by 

The  little  triumphs  he  achieves. 
Denied  the  talents  of  the  great. 

He  hurries  home  when  night  arrives, 
To  be  a  blissful  potentate 

Among  the  ones  for  whom  he  strives. 

Men  wonder  why  his  look  is  glad, 

Since  he  is  poor  and  underpaid ; 
Obscure,  hard-pressed  and  cheaply  clad, 

He  goes  to  duty,  undismayed ; 
With  common  gifts,  he  envies  none 

The  glories  of  supreme  success, 
For  when  the  day's  hard  work  is  done 

He  hurries  home  to  happiness. 

138 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


THIS    WORLD    OF    OURS 

THEY  say  we  live  in  an  age  of  greed — 

Greed  of  power  and  greed  of  gain — 
We  have  ceased  to  applaud  the  heroic  deed, 

We  are  warned  by  priests,  but  they  preach 

in  vain ; 
The  right  of  might  has  become  our  creed, 

We  cheer  the  rogue  if  his  ventures  pay ; 
The  purse  is  greater  than  sword  or  pen. 
But,  in  spite  of  the  absence  of  knighthood, 
when 

Were  wrongs  as  few  as  they  are  today  ? 

They  say  we  live  in  an  age  when  gold 

Is  the  one  reward  that  is  proudly  claimed. 
Glory  is  purchased  and  manhood  sold, 

Honor  is  banished  and  Virtue  shamed ; 
Art  is  hungry  and  Vice  is  bold, 

Wisdom  speaks  in  a  feeble  tone; 
But  when  has  woman  been  burdened  less 
Or  man  shown  readier  willingness 

To  grant  her  all  that  should  be  her  own? 


139 


THE      LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 

They  say  that  chivalry  is  no  more. 

That  the  just  are  weak   and  the   wicked 

strong; 
The  shield  is  rusted  that  Valor  bore 

And  Pride  is  deaf  to  the  minstrel's  song; 
Christ  is  turned  from  the  rich  man's  door. 

Age  is  favored  with  scant  respect ; 
But  when  has  childhood  had  greater  care. 
And  when  has  Helplessness  had  to  btar 

Its  pitiful  ills  with  less  neglect? 

They  say  we  live  in  a  Godless  day, 

That  Worth  is  ragged  and  Frailty  proud ; 
The  priest  has  ceased  to  have  power  to  sway. 

The  ribald  laughter  of  Vice  is  loud ; 
The  harp  is  broken  and  thrown  away. 

Art  begs  a  crust  at  the  merchant's  gate; 
But  when  have  the  strong  been  more  inclined 
To  lift  the  weak  and  to  lead  the  blind. 

And  when  was  Effort's  reward  so  great? 


140 


THE      LAND      OF      LITTLE      CARE 


INDIAN    SUMMER 

How  peaceful  all  the  world  appears  to  be! 

How  genially  shines  the  morning  sun, 
Warming  the  dew  that  sparkles  on  the  lea 

When,  after  the  long  summer's  tasks  are 
done. 

The  harvest  gathered,  the  fair  prizes  won. 
The  hopes  of  springtime  realized,  a  haze 

Lies  on  the  distant  hills,  and  here  and  there 

Belated  larks  have  courage  still  to  dare 
To  gladden  with  the  glory  of  their  lays. 

Serenely  in  the  year's  late  afternoon 
All  nature  seems  to  claim  unhindered  ease; 

The  mildness  and  the  warmth  of  early  June 
Make  welcome  the  half -hesitating  breeze', 
A  splendor  all  too  brief  is  on  the  trees. 

And  eagerly  upon  the  far-off  slopes 
That  recently  were  drenched  by  ceaseless 

rain 
The  flocks  are  nipping  tender  blades  again, 

As  if  imbued  w,ith  new,  unfailing  hopes. 

141 


THE      LAND      OF     LITTLE      CARE 

A  mellow  tenderness  is  over  all; 
On  outlines  that  were  sharp  awhile  ago 

A  graceful,  rounded  softness  seems  to  fall. 
The  maple  and  the  sumac  are  aglow, 
But  still  from  fragrant  fields  mild  breezes 
blow; 

Scenes  that  were  commonplace  have  grown 

sublime, 

The  dandelions  blossom  forth  anew, 
And  on  the  gables  doves  are  wont  to  coo, 

As  if  it  were  again  their  mating  time. 

The  world  has  only  kindness  to  display, 
As  when  a  man  whose  useful  work  is  done 

Turns  from  the  turmoil  and  the  strife  away 
To  claim  the  peace  he  worthily  has  won. 
Who,  ere  the  long,  last  slumber  is  begun, 

Reclaims  the  joy  of  youth  a  little  while. 
Who,  having  freed  himself  of  all  his  cares. 
Forgets  the  burden  that  Ambition  bears. 

And  calmly  greets  the  morning  with  a  smile. 


142 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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1954 


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